Daughter of Time
by wednesday-mc
Summary: Very AU & Alt Reality. Legolas never left Middle-Earth, but stayed behind to look after Aragorn's children--most specifically the first-born daughter of each generation. This generation's daughter was never prepared to believe in Elves, much less Legolas.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Daughter of Time

AUTHORS: Greenwood ('ThisIsGreenwood' on this site ) and Wednesday McKenna

ARCHIVE: Our webpage only. We also ask that our work not be nominated for any awards.

PAIRING: Legolas/OFC

CATEGORY: Romance

RATING: PG-13

SUMMARY: Legolas never left Middle-Earth, but stayed behind to look after Aragorn's children--most specifically the first-born daughter of each generation. In 2004, this generation's daughter was never prepared to believe in Elves, much less Legolas.

AUTHORS NOTES: "Daughter of Time" is a rollercoaster ride with an original female character, but Greenwood and I have tried very hard to keep her from becoming a MarySue.

The story is Alternative Universe because it takes place within a future LOTR universe and selectively uses canon for the purposes of set-up and backstory. It is also Alternate Reality because the characters are in another time and place (i.e., thousands of years beyond the ending of the books).

Among other things, the plotline plays fast and loose with this statement from Tolkien: "The view is that the Half-elven have a power of (irrevocable) choice, which may be delayed but not permanently, which kin's fate they will share. Elros chose to be a King and 'longaevus' but mortal, so all his descendants are mortal, and of a specially noble race, but with dwindling longevity: so Aragorn (who, however, has a greater life-span than his contemporaries, double, though not the original Númenórean treble, that of Men). Elrond chose to be among the Elves. His children - with a renewed Elvish strain, since their mother was Celebrían dtr. of Galadriel - have to make their choices (Tolkien Letter No. 153)."

We recognize the AU, AR and a few other elements will not be welcomed by some canon purists. If you think what we've written might offend you, please remember that we did try to warn you here.

FEEDBACK: Dreaded, actually. We ask that if anything in this flavor of tea offends you, please consider simply leaving it for someone else to enjoy rather than lashing out and hurting those who brewed it. Your beloved, original LOTR characters and world are just over there on your bookcase: pristine, intact and very much unharmed.

DISCLAIMER: _Lord of the Rings_ and all character names are the acknowledged trademarks of the J.R.R. Tolkien Estate and/or its licensees. Character and other creative elements from these respective works are used in this story without permission for entertainment, not-profit purposes only and is meant for fun. Not blood. No money is collected or made off of anything on this site. Everything here is fictional (this means it never happened). Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

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CHAPTER ONE

_Happy graduation to me,_ Ivy thought while racing the San Francisco rain for her front door. The December downpour cared nothing for finally-finished Masters candidates, and she reached the front porch of the old Victorian house just as the sky opened. Slamming the front door against the wind and the wet, Ivy almost stepped on a cream-colored envelope laying on the worn green carpeting just beyond the door's dull brass mail slot. Addressed to her mother, Marian MacLeod, the envelope gleamed in the gloomy half-light of the narrow hallway.

Scooping up the envelope, she didn't bother taking off her coat before passing into the living room. She could have turned up the heat, but that was an expensive luxury and she didn't want the financial burden. Everyone thought the historical Victorian homes of San Francisco were quaint and charming - everyone, that is, who didn't have to pay for their upkeep. Better just to wear the coat.

Ivy had no idea how she was going to pay to keep the 1880s worse-for-wear five-bedroom Victorian white elephant her mother had deeded over to her as a graduation present weeks before. Marian MacLeod-Matheson's second husband may have been wealthy, but Ivy seriously doubted if the racing stable owner wanted to take care of a grown step-daughter. She wasn't even really sure he remembered he had one. The late-summer wedding had come as a surprise to Ivy, who had been so engrossed in trying to finish her Masters thesis that she hadn't realized her mother's five-year relationship with Reuben Matheson was that serious.

_Regardless my mother's marital status, six years of school, and three-hundred thousand dollars in student loans, I'm supposed to be able to take care of myself, _she thought. _Hopefully, I can without selling this place._

Shoving aside her fears for the moment, Ivy called her mother's new home in Louisville, Kentucky. Reuben's maid or cook answered – Ivy couldn't tell them apart from their soft southern drawls. A brief exchange informed her that Marian was with her husband in Acapulco.

_Acapulco?_ With a surge of resentment at her mother's choice for a Christmas holiday, Ivy glanced out at the dark, dreary rain that made everything feel that much colder and gloomier. And then she was redialing and hoping her mother's cell phone worked in Mexico.

"Hello, Ivy," Marian chirped in her ear. "The phone said it was you, I was meaning to call you later tonight. Graduation day, isn't it? You're officially an artist now?"

"That's the theory. Mom, when I came home—"

"I feel terrible about our not being there to celebrate with you, but Reuben has business down here and, well, we did send you a gift. Did you get the money we deposited into your account?"

"Yes, Mother. You and Reuben are very generous." _If I'm careful, that money will see me through until spring, when hopefully I'll have found a job in some gallery._

"I know the house isn't cheap to keep, so you must let me know if you need more."

"Thanks, Mom," she responded automatically, even while she thought, _If? This thing sucks down money faster than a black hole, but I'm not going to ask for your charity._

"I'm so proud of you," her mother was gushing. "A Masters Degree! No one in our family has ever gotten one of those before, though I still wish you'd chosen to study something you could actually have a career in. How you think you can make a living drawing horses—"

"I _paint_ horses, Mom, the drawings are only preliminaries. By the way, didn't you have all of your mail forwarded to Reuben's house?"

"Yes, dear. Why?"

"Something was waiting in the hall when I came home." She turned the envelope in her cold-stiffened fingers. "The return address is in Lairg, Scotland, but there's no stamp or postmark."

"There wouldn't be," her mother muttered.

Ivy traced the ornate calligraphy. "Whoever addressed it has beautiful handwriting."

"That would be Hald...Halden."

"Who's Halden?"

"Perhaps you should open it while I get myself into a room that's more private. Reuben is trying to watch CNN, after all. Read me the note inside."

Sliding a finger beneath the flap, Ivy ripped open the envelope and retrieved the card. Cradling the phone against her chin, she read aloud.

"Greenwood Limited, Winter Solstice Meeting of the Board of Directors. Tuesday December 21. The meeting will begin at ten o'clock and continue until the conclusion of the board's agenda. Greenwood Estate, Lairg County, Loch Shin, Scotland. Mother, what is this?" She waved the envelope about regardless her mother couldn't see it.

"Keep reading, please?"

"It says...um...the meeting is closed and private. Matters to be considered are the approval of the agenda, minutes from the meeting last June, the chairman's report, president's...yeah, this is exciting stuff. You're supposed to confirm attendance with Halden Greenwood, acting Chairman of the Board, Treasurer and Secretary of the Corporation. Wait a minute. Halden Greenwood?" Ivy squeaked, "as in one of the richest men in the world? That Halden Greenwood?"

"Yes."

"Why is he in our front hallway?"

There was a long pause. "Actually, his name is Haldir."

_Where do I know that name from?_ Ivy reflected. _Haldir...she can't mean..._

"Haldir of Lothlórien?" Ivy said, incredulous.

"Yes."

"So he's not _that_ Halden Greenwood?" Ivy said slowly, trying to work things out. "He's just some nutty Scot pretending to be a rich Elf? Or some nutty rich Scot pretending to be a fictional Elf?"

"Ivy! Of course he isn't any of those things. Out in the world, he's Halden Greenwood. Inside his castle and to those living in the village of Lairg, he's Haldir."

"Haldir of Lothlórien has a castle in Scotland?"

"It's not his castle, it's Legolas' castle." Marian drew a deep breath. "Greenwood Enterprises is Legolas' company as well, but he's been on sabbatical for a number of years. I've never actually met him, but your grandmother Isabel and he had a falling out after they became lovers. Oh, it's a terribly sad story."

"My grandmother and Haldir were lovers?"

"Oh, Ivy, how could you think such a thing? Isabel and Haldir were never lovers. They were never even really friends. Isabel and Legolas were lovers. But the affair turned out badly, so very badly."

Ivy tried hard to absorb what her mother was throwing at her. "My grandmother had an affair with the Elven prince of Mirkwood, one of the Nine Walkers in _The Lord of the Rings_. _That_ Legolas?"

"Yes."

"And you're blaming the turning-out-badly part on Legolas?"

"Yes. You must remember that Elves are dangerous. You can trust Haldir - he's a darling - but I've been told more than once that Legolas is terribly dangerous, and he can be violent. You must avoid him if he comes back, for I doubt there's any love lost on his part for our branch of the family."

_Legolas is dangerous and is going come gunning for our family for revenge or something? She's lost her mind,_ thought Ivy.

Laying the meeting notice aside, she said carefully, "Please don't take this badly, Mom, but you're starting to sound like you need psychiatric evaluation."

"I am not!" the older woman snapped. "I may be explaining things badly, but I am not crazy. Surely you remember those summers when you stayed with your grandfather in Montana while I went off to Scotland? That was for the Summer Solstice meetings in June. And you know I was always gone a few days before Christmas, for the Winter Solstice meetings. I let you and your grandfather think I needed time for myself."

"Didn't you?" Ivy inserted.

"Of course I did. But that's another story entirely, and I'm not going to tell it tonight. If you'll just call Haldir and give him your name, he'll take care of everything. His phone number should be on that invitation."

Ivy squeezed the bridge of her nose. "In case you haven't noticed, Mother, it's the middle of the night in Scotland."

"Haldir will be awake. Everyone knows that Elves don't sleep."

_Of course they don't sleep,_ Ivy thought. _Tolkien said so_.

Sliding down in the chair, she tucked up her legs and settled in for the long haul. "Mom, could you try setting aside this fantasy for a minute and tell me, in very small words, exactly why I should call this pseudo-Elf guy?"

"Because you have to attend that meeting. I can't."

"You want me to go to Scotland in the middle of December when I should be putting in job applications for the new year?" she said, incredulous. "I have to start my _life_ now, Mother."

"You don't have to worry about that."

"I do if the mortgage is going to get paid. Unless you and Reuben want to keep paying it for me?"

"The Solstice isn't that far away, so you'll need to get to Scotland as soon as you can," her mother pushed on. "You'll attend the meeting and vote on things. Don't worry about the mortgage, a trust fund comes with your seat on the board. Haldir will probably have it set up for you by morning if you call him tonight."

"A trust fund," Ivy ventured. "With real funds, or _Lord of the Rings_ Monopoly money?"

"Of course with real funds!" her mother snapped. "Greenwood Enterprises certainly doesn't pay its board members with Monopoly money. It never has. You'll receive more than enough to pay for the house - which Haldir helped your grandmother buy back in the sixties, you know?"

"No, I didn't know. So the Elves got Isabel this eye-searing, ugly wreck of a house? How generous. Was that before or after she and Legolas broke each other's hearts? Y'know, maybe this was some kind of payback--"

"It was _after_, and the house didn't look that way until your grandmother became a flower child in the sixties and redecorated. Elves have very classical tastes, as you'll soon find out. You might treat this entire matter a little more seriously."

Ivy fought back the giggles that were trying to escape. "This entire matter sounds like a fantasy, so forgive me if I'm not showing the proper respect I should after you've announced I get to spend a great deal of money visiting real Hobbits, wizards and Elves, oh my!"

"You are being sarcastic."

"And you're making my head hurt. Can we just cut to the chase here? What is this really? Some sort of Middle-earth fantasy re-enactment group sponsored by this rich old guy that you've been playing with for God knows what reason, because my brain can't come up with one that makes sense right now."

"It isn't a fantasy." Her mother sounded hurt. "And Haldir is not old."

"If he's Haldir, he's over eight thousand years old," Ivy pointed out. "That's old. That's really old. In fact, that makes him ancient – like dinosaur-old or something."

"Well, he certainly doesn't look it!" Her mother fell silent.

"So..." Ivy ventured cautiously into the breach. "This Haldir guy is willing to give me a trust fund full of real money just for sitting in on his board meetings twice a year?"

"Yes."

"Did he give you a trust fund?"

"Yes."

"Then what did you do with it? Why were we always broke? Why have I been borrowing myself into oblivion the last six years with student loans?"

"I never liked to use their money." Her mother sounded more than a little exasperated. "I never wanted to be...well...beholden to them."

"To...them. You mean to the Elves?"

"To anyone, especially Elves. Relying on anyone generally results in a bad outcome. I also didn't want to spoil you growing up, so that you became another Isabel."

Ivy snorted. "There was more wrong with my grandmother than just being spoiled. I'd have to be committable to be like her."

"Of course you're right. But still, I wanted to make sure you didn't turn out like her. But she's gone now, and you're not like her, so it doesn't matter."

_I'm in debt for hundreds of thousands, and it doesn't matter?_ Ivy tried to look on the bright side. "Yeah, my grandmother lived in a few fantasy worlds as well, so it's best not to get tangled up with some Scottish roleplaying group that carries things too far and pretends to be real characters from Middle-earth. Or MacBeth."

"Once again, Ivy, they are _not_ pretending, and you must mind your manners if you're going to deal with them. None of those Elves would appreciate being told they're not real. They are like...like royalty in many ways, and you must promise to behave while you're there."

"Right, okay. Don't yell. How many of them are there?"

"Thirteen are on the board, including you but not including Legolas, who's in Alaska."

"The Prince of Mirkwood is in Alaska?"

"He went there to get away from Isabel."

"Seems a bit cold in the extreme...or extreme in the cold," said Ivy, "but that's all right. He's a grown Elf, he can do what he wants."

"He didn't want your grandmother following him. Didn't want her finding him."

"Fine. Whatever." Tapping the meeting notice on the end-table, Ivy wondered if there was any aspirin left in the medicine cabinet upstairs. "So if you went to all of the meetings up until this past June, why can't you go to this one, too?"

"Because I'm married to Reuben now, and he can't find out I was involved with Greenwood!" her mother hissed on a whisper, as if secrecy were suddenly necessary, never mind she'd been practically shouting mere seconds ago. "He'd think I was spying on him for the enemy!"

"I beg your pardon? Greenwood's the enemy? Enemy of what?"

"Reuben and Halden are rivals. At least, their companies are."

"Did you know this when you married Reuben?"

"Yes, but I'm resigning from Greenwood's board as of right now, and you're taking my place. There's nothing unusual about that because daughters have replaced mothers on it for centuries."

_Centuries? _"Umm... all right."

"I know it sounds bizarre, but Haldir will explain everything. I wish that I could have warned you about all of this, but quite honestly I've been so busy with the wedding, and then traveling with Reuben, that I forgot about it. Please don't tell Haldir that, though. He always makes a production of his missives, and I think he's really quite proud of them. Every one has been hand-delivered, and he has lovely handwriting, don't you think?"

"Mom--"

"I can't stay on much longer. Reuben will want his supper."

Ivy gritted her teeth. "Would you at least call this Haldir person, and let him know I'll be replacing you?"

"I _can't_, Ivy." A note of desperation crept into the woman's voice. "That number must not be on our bill, it's traceable to Lee's company--"

"Lee who?"

"Lee Greenwood. That's Legolas when he's--"

"Outside of his Scottish castle. Got it."

Her mother gave a deep sigh. "Promise me that you'll call Haldir."

"Fine," she sighed in resignation. "I'll call him." _And you can bet it's going to be collect. To tell him I'm not going. I don't really want to participate in this charade, I don't have the time. I don't have the money to just hop a plane to Scotland. I mean, pay the mortgage or fly off to play with the nutters? Not much of a choice there._

"Ivy? Are you listening to me?" Her mother's strident tone managed to pierce all thoughts of resistance. "You must call him tonight. The meeting isn't that far off, and you'll need time to prepare."

"Yes, Mom, I said I'd call him. Tonight. Right now."

"That's good, dear." Her mother hesitated. "You must remember that these are Elves you're dealing with. They're not like you and me. They're volatile and unpredictable, so please be careful."

"Unpredictable how, exactly?" Ivy asked cautiously.

"You'll see. Enjoy your time in Scotland, and let me know when you get back. It's beautiful in Lairg this time of year, even if it is bitterly cold. Good-night, dear. Love you."

"Good-night, Mom. I love you too." _Even if you have become a total loonie since we last talked._

Her mother hung up first: she always did.

# #

_All right, Halden Greenwood. Let's see just who you are._ Grabbing the invitation, Ivy pushed out of the chair and ran up the stairs. Turning on the computer in her bedroom, she waited with impatience for it to boot and signed onto the Internet.

'Halden Greenwood,' she Googled. The screen leaped to life as link after link flooded the screen.

"Okay, Mr. Elf, this one looks like it might hold some actual facts on you." She clicked one of one of Halden Greenwood's biographical links, this one through _Fortune_ magazine.

Moments later, she rocked back in stunned amazement after learning Mr. Greenwood was the sixth richest man in the world, having a net persona worth of approximately 25.2 billion. And those were personal dollars, having nothing to do with Greenwood Enterprises.

Tapping a few more keys, Ivy further learned that Greenwood was a private company holding ownership in a fair number of companies including the likes of Jaguar, Trader Joe's, and a slew of environmentally friendly corporations.

_If Halden's worth that much, then how much more is the entire organization worth?_ she wondered.

Further reading revealed that he had been educated at All Saints College, Oxford, and was well known for his philanthropy through the Greenwood Foundation. Established in 1885 by Halden's father, Lee Greenwood II, the foundation's purpose was to promote of academic, scientific and cultured research and development - whatever that was - throughout the world.

Eighty years old and reclusive in the extreme, Halden had been seen only a handful of times in public for over thirty years. He was also widowed and had one son named Lee Greenwood III.

_So he's been playing Haldir in Scotland while his son has been playing Legolas in Alaska? And Legolas would be what...about fifty now? Oh, ick._

Aside from the company, the Greenwood family was rich through both inheritance and 'value investing principles' - whatever those were. The Greenwood family owned 17,000 acres of old-growth forest in Lairg County, Scotland, which accounted for eight percent of Britain's forests. The only available photo of Halden was said to date from 1970.

Amused blue eyes looked back at her from a classically handsome Celtic face with a high forehead and cheekbones to match. Ivy had no doubt that the hair had faded and thinned over the past thirty years: certainly Halden had to have a few more wrinkles now. _Must be a really old photo_.

Pushing away from the computer, Ivy sighed. _I promised I'd call...whoever this guy really is...because I don't for a minute believe he's Haldir of Lothlórien._

_I'm calling him collect,_ she repeated to herself, _because there's no way that I can justify paying for a long distance call to Scotland when I can't even afford to heat this house. How do you call another country, anyway?_

Last year's phone book was in a pile of magazines next to her bed, and it took only a few seconds to find the country code for Scotland. Within a few seconds more, she had communicated to the computerized operator the country and number she wanted.

"Please state the name of the party you are calling," the computer ordered.

"Halden Greenwood," she said, wanting very much to say 'Haldir' instead, if only in sheer defiance and frustration.

"Who is calling?"

"Marian MacLeod's daughter." _See what he does with that._


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

The double-toned ring she heard next had the strange effect of producing butterflies in her stomach.

_Stop it!_ she ordered her traitorous body. _It's not as if you're going to talk to a real Elf, after all. It's not as if those Tolkien books you got for Christmas as a kid were non-fiction. You don't know what she's been mixed up in, but it's not as if Peter Jackson's world is suddenly going to come alive in your ear tonight. You're going to talk to a rich old Scot who will tell you point blank that his games are not for you. You'll be lucky if you can understand him through the burr. _

_That's reality,_ Ivy acknowledged_. It's far too real, and I'm smack in the middle of it. Always have been, and it's getting realer by the day. Except for tonight's contagious madness._

_If this guy really is Halden Greenwood, then I imagine he's rich enough to make anything come alive for his own purposes, even Middle-earth. He probably owns stock in New Line Cinema, and we all know what their last big hits were. The question is, how does Mom know him, really?_

"Hello?" a British-accented voice answered the phone. Ivy's butterflies increased.

"Marian MacLeod's daughter calling collect for Halden Greenwood," said the computer. "Will you accept the charges?"

"Absolutely. Ivy..." He practically purred her name, and definitely did not sound eighty years old while doing so. "How good it is to speak with you at last. How are you? How is Marian?"

"She's the reason I'm calling." Ivy skipped the niceties. "Your meeting notice arrived, and my mother asked me to let you know she won't be attending. She's sending me instead."

"I trust she is all right?"

"Mom's fine, she married Reuben Matheson recently. It seems he's one of your corporate competitors?"

A slight pause. "I see."

"Mom said to tell you she's resigning her seat on the board and giving it to me."

"That is understandable given the circumstances." Another pause. "Do you know if she has told Mr. Matheson anything about us?" asked Halden.

"I'm sure she hasn't. She refused to call you herself, in case he recognized the number on the phone bill."

"That is well." The relief in that perfect-accented voice was slight, but definitely evident. "Having you join us is a delightful turn of events, albeit a bit sooner than expected."

"Actually, it's rather confusing," Ivy said carefully. "My mother informed me tonight that outside of your castle--"

"It may be more of a sprawling manorhouse now. We've remodeled extensively over the centuries, you see?"

"Oh. Mom called it a castle. She said that outside of your...home...you're known as Halden Greenwood. Inside, you're Haldir of Lothlórien."

"Yes," came the simple admission.

"You're really Haldir of Lothlórien, marchwarden to the Lady Galadriel?"

"I was." His tone carried pride as well as a touch of sadness.

_If a fictional Elf could speak,_ Ivy thought, _I've no doubt he'd sound like this guy. He really believes he's from Middle-earth, so where does this conversation go from here?_

"My mother told me tonight that Tolkien's books are real."

"Much in them is true, but much was also distorted. The individual character histories and the basic outline of events are essentially sound."

"So you're telling me you're an Elf," Ivy said flatly.

"Yes."

_That confirms it: he's a nutter, a totally delusional soul who really believes this._ _What's worse is I'm starting to believe him._ "You're all supposed to have gone to the Undying Lands," she challenged. "Why are you still here?"

"Some of us are not yet finished with this world."

She sensed the polite, emotional wall he raised with that statement. Not daring to pry, and uncertain if she was being rebuffed or stirring up bad memories in what may have been a mental patient, Ivy chose to wait until he spoke again.

"Your mother told you nothing of our existence, or of Greenwood's board, until tonight?"

"Not one word," she said quietly. "Mom kept your secrets, just so you know. Which means I don't know whether you're play-acting and need an audience, or if you're mental."

"Time will tell," he said cheerily, "Well then, Ivy. Let's start at the beginning. Traditionally, someone from your family has always held a place in our organization. You can participate in the bi-annual meetings as much or as little as you like. Matters of consequence will be discussed this Solstice, as they are every Solstice, and votes will be taken. It's best to be familiar with what you're voting on, otherwise you could do a great deal of damage. If you do not wish to participate, you will need to assign a proxy to vote for you. This first meeting, you might consider designating a proxy and attend merely to observe."

"I'd rather participate, if possible," she challenged, feeling perverse.

"If that is the case, then we should arrange for your arrival in Lairg as soon as possible. We have only a few days before the Solstice, and it will take some time to prepare you for what will be discussed."

"My mother said there are other Elves."

"There are. Thirteen of us sit on the board, and you are our thirteenth member. It would be most expedient were I to send the company jet to bring you here. Have you a current passport?"

"Yes, I have a...you'll send a jet?" she asked, incredulous. "You actually have a jet?"

"Of course I do. It's a Lear and practically brand new. I chose the fittings myself. You must watch for the fireflies-in-the-forest effect when the lights are low."

"The what? On second thought, wait." She yanked back her hair in exasperation to realize she was very much in danger of being caught up in this man's fantasy world. "Never mind. Don't send the jet. Even though I'd love to meet your fireflies, I'm supposed to be looking for a job. I can't fly off to Lothlórien right now."

"We are in North Ithilien, actually, now known as Lairg. I regret that Lothlórien is no more."

"I'm so sorry," Ivy stammered, unable to bear the possibility he might be telling the truth, that the Lady's beautiful world had been lost. Shaking herself, Ivy struggled to remember Lothlórien was not real, and that she shouldn't join in the billionaire's private fantasy that it was.

"Wait. Wait a minute, please. Look, Mr. Greenwood. It's nice of you to offer to fly me over to Lung or whatever, but I really cannot come. You may be well-off, but I've finally finished school, and I have to figure out a way to pay my student loans as well as the mortgage every month. I have to find a job. Right now, starting tomorrow morning. So no flying with the fireflies for me, okay?"

"Allow me to offer my congratulations upon the awarding of your degree." He sounded genuinely happy for her. "San Francisco State, wasn't it? A Master of Fine Arts in Art, if I remember correctly?"

"You're right, and now you're frightening me." She was only half-joking, and not all that certain about the half.

"You mentioned a mortgage. I assume then that, after remarrying, your mother turned the house and its expenses over to you?"

"Yes," Ivy admitted with reluctance.

"I see. Not surprising as she has never been fond of either the house or its location. Well, you needn't search for a job," Halden continued, "as a sizable trust fund accompanies your position on the board. If you will give me the name of your bank, I shall have your personal funds established by morning."

"It's Wells Fargo," she muttered, "and I don't believe this."

"Whether you believe it or not, it shall be done."

"Don't you need to know the name on the account as well?" she demanded. "What about the account number?"

"Did your mother not establish a checking account for you when you were fifteen, and is this not the same account? Is the mortgage not paid by automatic withdrawal from your account now, as it was paid from your mother's account in the past?"

"How do you know about that?" she asked, feeling more than a little panicky and suspicious.

"You are Marian's daughter," he stated simply. "We have always looked after you and your mother as we could. As best we were allowed in any case. Let's see..."

Ivy heard something that sounded suspiciously like tapping on computer keys.

"What are you--"

"A moment, if you will," Halden interrupted, rather rudely Ivy thought. She subsided into the commanded silence as the tapping continued for nearly two minutes.

"Your mortgage is now paid through February. An automatic withdrawal from your trust fund will take care of all future payments as well. If some time in the future you would like to pay off the entire mortgage as well as the equity loan your mother took out, I can see to it for you. Is there anything else you require?"

"No, that's...that's amazing right there."

"What about any outstanding bills? Are the utilities due?"

"The gas needs paid." She thought aloud and not all that clearly.

"Hang about while I take care of that." The clicking of keys once more.

"No, wait! I didn't mean for you to - Halden, I was joking. I was only thinking about what was due. I didn't call to ask you to pay my bills."

"I realize that, but I also realize that you were not jesting about the bill. Your gas bill is now taken care of and a generous credit added beyond that, so you may turn up the thermostat without fear. I am well aware the heating system in that house is rather ancient and not very efficient – it is perhaps even unsafe – so, given your mindfulness of economics, I strongly suspect you are less than comfortable at this moment. Are the fireplaces in good working order? Have you enough wood for fuel?"

"I only use the fireplace in my room," she offered with some bewilderment. "How do you know about the heating system?"

"I aided your grandmother in the original purchase of that house and tried for years to convince her to update it."

_By the end of this,_ Ivy thought,_ I may actually owe Mom that apology she wants. _"Mom never did anything about it."

"Of course not. Your grandmother was not given to tending mundane details, and I know your mother has...spending issues. Why is beyond me, when there was more than enough at her fingertips, she had only to write the check. I hope you will take a less benevolent view of your antique appliances and let me advise you? Or at least take a less suspicious view of your trust fund and actually use the money provided. Now, do you prefer burning cedar or pine in your fireplace?"

"It doesn't matter because you are not buying me wood." Ivy spoke through gritted teeth. "The stores are all closing, so it's too late to order anything. Besides, I am quite capable of buying my own wood."

"Nonsense. I know who to contact after hours."

"Why are you doing this?" Ivy asked in sheer desperation. _I'm starting to understand why mother refused this Elf's...erm, guy's...help. I asked a question about a meeting, and he's taking over my life – from Scotland no less!_

"I enjoy taking care of people, and I flatter myself that I am rather good at it," Halden murmured. "Hang about, I shall be right back."

She thought she'd rather hang up than hang about, but knew he'd only call back. Such behavior wouldn't prevent someone showing up at her door with a load of fuel anyway.

"There." He was back. "I've ordered a cord of mixed wood for you. It should arrive within the hour, so you will be safe and warm during the night. Don't be shy of telling the delivery fellow where you want it, as he is being well paid for his service. Now, have you eaten?"

"I think I can manage to feed myself!" she snapped.

"Very well. I'll send over a pizza. I understand that is a favored meal in your culture, yes?"

She laughed outright at his persistence. "This is surreal. The marchwarden to the Lady Galadriel is ordering me pizza."

"I am. It really is best to simply give in, and let me have my way." He sounded amused. "Do you prefer thin crust or thick? They offer both on this web site."

"Thin."

"Very well. Is Papa John's all right? They are fairly close and take orders over the Internet."

"They're fine. Great."

"Is there anything else I can do for you?"

Laying back on the bed, Ivy let out the breath she'd been holding and willed herself to relax. "Perhaps you could answer a question?"

"If I can, I certainly will."

"Why did my grandmother think Legolas was dangerous? Why does my mother think the same thing?"

Silence answered her. Even the computer keys were quiet in Scotland.

"Legolas is in Alaska," Halden finally replied. "Your grandmother has passed from this world, and your mother has never met Legolas. Perhaps you should form your own opinions."

"I know. But this afternoon Mom danced around the details of our family's history with your...um, your race, so nothing makes sense to me. She described you as a darling, someone I could trust, and she made me promise to call you."

"Oh, how sweet of Marian."

"But she also said that Elves are strange and unpredictable, and I must never forget they're very different, and that Legolas in particular is dangerous and someone to be avoided at all cost. She also claimed my grandmother had some sort of an affair with him."

"It was nothing so tawdry as a mere affair because Legolas does not have those. Where to begin." Halden sniffed. "Legolas fell in love with Isabel Hamilton, and certain promises were made between them, promises I was not privy to. Legolas is an extremely private individual, he did not confide everything that happened between them. I do know your grandmother accepted him and his advances very quickly, only to reject him a short time later. Legolas tried very hard to please her and failed to do so, for Isabel could not handle his intensity. They hurt each other deeply, so much so that Legolas went into self-imposed exile during Isabel's lifetime. I thought he would return to Scotland after she passed on, but he has not. The hurts she caused were many and deep, and they remain tender."

"So that's why Legolas has no love for my family?" Ivy pursued. "If he returns to Scotland in my lifetime, it would be wise to keep my distance?"

"Legolas would never hurt you," Halden asserted. "What Isabel did to him is quite sad, but he would never blame you or your mother for Isabel's actions. In any case, he is in Alaska, and you have other things to worry about. You need to prepare for your visit with us. Have you warm things to wear?"

_Nice change of subject._ Ivy smiled to herself.

"I know how to stay warm," she assured him with another glance at the cold rain pelting against her window. "I have sweats and long underwear and some good snow boots. And wool socks. Rag wool socks – the best."

"I fear those won't keep you as warm as you need to be. The weather can be brutal this time of year, and we have no centralized heating. I shall lay in a few things for you from Inverness. What size do you wear now?"

She laughed. "First you feed me, and now you want to dress me?"

"I wish to have you warm. The wind off Loch Shin is very cold, and this manor is not warm, even on summer days."

"Trust me, I can buy my own clothes." The doorbell sounded downstairs. "Haldir, I think the wood has arrived. I've got to go - it's raining really hard, and the wood is going to get wet before I can get it into the garage."

_I called him Haldir. but he sounds like a Haldir_, she argued with herself._ Oh, Ivy, you are sooo riding for a fall. _

"One more question." He spoke quickly. "Can you be ready to leave the day after tomorrow at eight in the morning?"

"Yes."

"A car will arrive for you at that time. You need not worry about anything other than being ready. I look forward to meeting you, Ivy MacLeod. Be sure your delivery-man brings some of the wood inside for you. Rest well, my dear."

"You too, Haldir. Or whatever it is Elves do."

He chuckled. "Pack warmly, and be sure not to forget your passport. Good-night."

"'Night."


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Up before dawn and ready well before eight o'clock, Ivy paced restlessly before her front door. She'd tried to eat breakfast, but tea was all she could manage.

What had seemed like an adventure while talking to the mysterious, encouraging Haldir-of-Lung or whatever he called it, now seemed like the height of insanity in many different directions, including the questionable wisdom in getting into a car that hadn't yet arrived. Even though it wasn't time for it to have arrived.

Checking her watch, Ivy pulled open the front door and peered out into the street on the off-chance that the car might be early. She'd had far too long to ponder the conversation she'd had with Halden, far too long after she'd packed to sit and do nothing but wait. She thought she'd feel better once she was on that plane and on her way to whatever fate had in store. _Because no matter how weird the entire situation is, I am getting that car. If it arrives._

A trip to the bank the day before had offered evidence that Halden had been good for more than a pizza and a cord of wood. Going to a teller to find out what highway robbery she'd have to endure to exchange a few American dollars for British banknotes, she'd impulsively asked the teller to check her balance.

Ivy had been stunned when, seconds later, the bank manager appeared at her elbow. Unctuous and fawning, the woman had ushered Ivy into a private office and urged her in one of the ever-uncomfortable bank décor chairs before settling behind the manager's own executive monstrosity. She then slid a folded piece of paper across the desk to Ivy.

"Your balance, Ms. MacLeod."

From the whispered reverence accorded that slip of paper, Ivy thought it must hold all the secrets of the universe. Unfolding it, she all but stopped breathing at the total scribbled there.

_My god, Halden did it. He said he'd do it, and he actually did. But he had to screw up, there are way too many zeroes here. _

_This would make me rich, but it's not my money. It's his money, maybe Elven money, definitely somebody else's, but not mine. I know some of it is supposed to be mine, but how much? _

_Oh, this is way wrong. Now what do I do?_ She smiled nervously at the manager.

"If there is anything I can do for you - anything at all--" the woman gushed, "please don't hesitate to let me know. Here is my card. Please call me directly."

Mechanically accepting the offered business card, Ivy focused once more on the paper with all the zeroes. "Yeah, I'll...I'll do that. Thanks."

_Go buy yourself a decent coat,_ a practical voice suggested. _Surely Halden wouldn't begrudge you that? _

_Maybe not. Between his paying my bills, getting the wood delivered, and proclaiming wool socks inferior, he seems really big on keeping us non-Elven roleplaying types warm. If I don't show up with something warm to wear, he might drag me into Inverness to get one when he needs to get ready for that meeting._

Ivy's thoughts hurtled on as the manager continued prattling._ How do I get away from this woman?_

"That's really nice of you," she interrupted, "but I need to be on my way,"

"Of course you do. We're happy to have your business, Ms. MacLeod. More than happy. Have a simply wonderful day."

_Huh. You were never this enthusiastic when it was just me and my student loans out there._ Eager to leave Ms. Saponaceous behind, Ivy fled for the door and found herself out on the street, still clutching the small piece of paper.

"Right," she muttered to the drizzling rain. "I'll tell Hal he goofed when I get there, but for now, I'm buying a coat. A good coat, not a Walmart coat. Where do I go for that?"

The Christmas shoppers had already snatched up the best heavy coats, but Ivy managed to find a suitable ski jacket and a pair of warm gloves at a very expensive sporting goods store. Part of her felt guilty for handing over her debit card even for such a worthy cause as warding off Scottish frostbite.

_I'll pay it back,_ she promised herself. _I'll pay off Haldir along with the U.S. Government._

Returning home early in the day, she'd resisted the urge to turn up the thermostat. Instead, she retrieved the cardboard box from beneath the stairway - all that remained on earth of the late Isabel Hamilton - and hurried upstairs to put a few Haldenian logs on the fire.

Setting the box in the middle of her bed, Ivy began sorting. The banker's box contained everything belonging to her grandmother that the executor/lawyer hadn't been able to sell, including Isabel's cremated remains. Ivy's mother hadn't bothered interring the ashes; she hadn't even obtained a proper vase for them.

Wrinkling her nose, Ivy set the heavy cardboard container full of ashes aside on the floor and inspected the rest of the banker's box. Bits of costume jewelry were scattered across the bottom. The only other inhabitant was a slender leather-bound volume. Opening the book, Ivy was thrilled to discover it was a journal.

Ivy skimmed the pages. _So Isabel's in Scotland and someone is courting her. He's getting close to her...is this really Legolas? After only two weeks? _

Though Isabel didn't name the Elf courting her, it was all too obvious who she meant. _So what exactly did Legolas do to her? Or she to him? _

Ivy began reading in earnest. _It looks like he was mad about her, courted her, promised her everything and forever, would have given her anything she asked. So what was the problem? _

Held captive by the account, Ivy read throughout the afternoon and into the night until her fire died down, her stomach protested, and she went in search of leftover pizza. Less than an hour later, she threw Isabel's diary so hard against the fireplace that the dry spine split and pages fluttered loose.

"You rejected him," Ivy choked out, half-blinded by tears. "You said that you loved him, only to take him apart piece by piece."

Climbing out of bed, she gathered up the torn pages and stuffed them haphazardly back into the abused journal. Snatches of script leaped out at her.

_'He is far too protective - annoyingly so,'_ Isabel had written. _Entirely smothering and unbelievably violent. He's someone from another time and place, infinitely weird and all too seductive and nothing I want to involve myself with. _

_'He has inserted himself into my life without invitation, and constantly tries to imprison my feelings with some strange Elvish magic I don't begin to understand and absolutely resent. Nothing else can explain how I ever thought I cared for him, even for the few days he held my interest. Having him near, with all his unnaturalness, is a violation to my very soul, yet he swears he loves me. _

_'I don't love him – how could I love such a creature when I am in my own mind? He has his uses of course, but love him? How could I possibly love __that__? I don't even want him doing things for me anymore. All I want is for him to go away and stay away. But he won't leave! He will not listen, he has never listened to what I want!'_

"How the hell did he know what to listen to?" Ivy demanded of the pages. "One day you told him, 'Get away from me.' The next day it was, 'Get back here, how dare you leave me?' The next week you wanted to introduce him to your friends who had nothing but contempt for him – contempt they learned from you, no doubt.

"You didn't want his love, you wanted a lap dog. Something like Lassie who'd come, sit, stay, and then go away until you called him again to rescue you. And you expected all of this from one of the Firstborn?"

Ivy heaved what was left of the journal and the remains of her granny back into the battered box. She was still berating Isabel as she thumped the box back downstairs.

"Legolas offered you everything, and you messed with him to the point that after rescuing you and your friends from troubles in Greece—after you told him not to interfere, regardless you would have died if he hadn't—he left. Ditched you in 1951 during a plane refueling in Paris—his _own_ plane that was taking you safely back to Scotland, no less. He disappeared into the darkness, and you had no clue where he went or why he left. Like Haldir said, he went somewhere you couldn't find or follow.

"You were crazy, and that's the bottom line," Ivy told the box once she had shoved it back into the cubby beneath the stairs. "I'm sure psychiatrists have elegant labels for what you were, but I think you were flat-out bugnuts. At least you were fair about it – you abused everybody who ever came near you.

"Your taste in costume jewelry was awful, too," Ivy added, slamming the closet door.

Ivy remembered her mother insisting that Isabel's perspective and mood had altered day by day, if not hour by hour. The woman had been egocentric and irrational to the point that she had never gotten along with another person her entire life through. Her way of seeing was the only way things should be seen, and those ways were entirely inconsistent, so that no one had a prayer of knowing ahead of time what she wanted.

_It never occurred to her that she might be wrong about anything, _Ivy thought. _Not even after she managed to kill my sister._

Ivy had been four years old at the time, and her sister Lily a vulnerable seven months. Her father, Dylan MacLeod, had owned a travel agency in Phoenix and wanted to attend a trade show in Houston. Isabel had graciously offered to fly to Phoenix and take care of the children so that Marian could go with her husband. They'd only be gone five days, not very long at all. How difficult could it be for Isabel to tend two little girls for a mere five days?

Obedient to Marian's schedule, Isabel had taken Ivy to pre-school on Thursday and again on Friday. But upon returning home Friday morning, Isabel had rushed inside to escape the rising desert heat. It was August in Phoenix - 107 degrees outside and easily 140 inside the metal vehicle.

Heaven knew the heat was draining to an adult accustomed to the cooler environs of San Francisco, so Isabel had lain down for a nap after she got inside. What she had forgotten was to bring the sleeping baby in from the van. Three hours later, her daughter had called to check on her children. Only then did Isabel remember Lily.

The baby had been found unconscious and non-responsive, which was really a polite way of saying Lily was dead. The paramedics had been summoned, and a frantic Marian and Dylan had flown back from Houston.

The doctors said that Lily's body temperature had risen to 115. By the time Isabel had found her, the baby had no brain function and was not breathing. If she had been found earlier, or better yet, if she had not been left in the hot van to begin with....

"If you had called sooner," Isabel had snapped when told the news, "your daughter would still be alive!"

A heartbroken Marian managed to focus on her remaining child, but Dylan could not. He blamed Isabel­­, as well he might, and Marian by irrational relation. He blamed himself as well, believing he had somehow failed to protect his daughter. As for Ivy, she was left with a world turned upside down and only the vaguest memories of her sister when she looked at childhood photos years later.

Isabel Hamilton returned to San Francisco before Lily's funeral as the infant's parents seemed 'unreasonably hostile toward me,' as she'd recorded in her journal. All contact between mother and daughter ceased. The police had investigated Lily's death, but no charges had ever been filed.

Ivy's parents had separated almost immediately and divorced a few months later. Except for the occasional check, her father kept no contact at all, so his suicide two years later had little impact on Ivy's life other than making her feeling a passing sadness over the subsequent years for a father who wasn't there.

Marian never shared her feelings regarding the death of her daughter or the destruction of her marriage, much less the suicide of the man she still loved, but Ivy remembered her mother had pretty much stopped smiling that summer. Even Ivy's best drawings hadn't cheered her. Without Dylan's ongoing financial support, there was also no easy way Marian could keep the house in Phoenix and continue raising Ivy by herself.

Dylan's father, Cameron MacLeod, had emerged from his grief long enough to invite mother and daughter to come live with him on his ranch in Darby, Montana, which was about as far away from Isabel and San Francisco as they could get. Desperate, Marian accepted the invitation, so that when Ivy was seven her childhood had stabilized into something that included a loving grandfather along with cattle and sheep, horses and chickens.

It had also included walking a mile to the bus stop every morning that school was in. Even given the six-foot winter snowdrifts, it hadn't been a bad way to grow up. Ivy still wished she had been left alone to do just that, but Isabel Hamilton had once again managed to interfere with Ivy's life the summer she turned fifteen.

_Granny finally met something that wouldn't bend to her will. Something she couldn't control, _Ivy thought of the train that had barreled down on Isabel when she wouldn't get out of her car after it had stalled on the tracks.

Why she hadn't left her car was a question looming large in the investigation of her death, but those who knew Isabel had no doubt she had expected the train to yield to her. It was a quick death, if messy, and Isabel had left everything she owned -including her ashes and a seedy Victorian house in San Francisco - to her only child.

From Darby, Marian had ordered the executor to sell everything but the house. And then, much to Ivy's misery and Cameron's sorrow, Marian had suddenly decided they needed to move to San Francisco so that Ivy could experience a wider world.

"There's more to life than 4-H competitions at county fairs and helping dress a deer each fall," Marian had told her daughter. Ivy and Cameron hadn't agreed, but Marian would not be moved.

Ivy dragged her thoughts back to her grandmother's diary while getting ready for bed. _Her insanity has affected every part of my life. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, and I'm so sorry Legolas was sucked into her lunacy. She ruined everything she touched and scarred everyone who was with her for any amount of time._

_By the time Legolas met my grandmother, hadn't he already watched everything he fought for fade away? Everything in Middle-earth went to the world of Men even before Aragorn died, didn't it? That can't be easy for him to live through, so why didn't he and the others leave for the Undying Lands?_

Climbing into bed, she turned out the light. _Maybe Halden...Haldir...doesn't look back much, so his memories haven't the power to hurt him. Maybe he's able to focus on the present. But maybe Legolas is one of those people who really feels things deeply. After all, he's the one still hiding out in Alaska because of things Isabel did to him fifty-three years ago. I'm glad he left her first, but I doubt that's any consolation to him._

What amazed Ivy was the realization that Legolas had somehow managed to preserve what was truly important to him in the form of a tiny, perfect corner of Scotland when all else seemed to have been lost.

_Haldir said that Lairg is in what used to be Ithilien, and in those first happy days up there Isabel described Legolas' seventeen thousand acres as a paradise. How sad is it that only a few miles of Middle-earth have survived out of an entire world. I'm glad he has something to go home to, if he ever does go home._

Surprised at the fierce protectiveness she was feeling for an Elf she had never met and who probably didn't really exist, Ivy punched the pillows and settled down to sleep.

_Why shouldn't I feel protective of Legolas?_ she pondered. _He was always my favorite character and a really big part of my childhood. He could talk to trees and ride horses. It doesn't get any more perfect than that, so why shouldn't I still care about him? I wanted to learn from Elrond, but I wanted Legolas to be my friend and let me travel with him._

_Maybe nobody ever leaves their childhood completely behind. Then again, most of us don't have mothers who tell us out of the blue that Winnie-the-Pooh and Owl are real. Middle-earth was always a lot more exciting than the Hundred-Acre Wood, so I guess I should be grateful Mom didn't get mixed up in something like Pooh. Or Doctor Dolittle. _

"I'm glad Isabel is gone." She spoke into the darkness to the unseen Elf she still believed was fictional, despite the intricate fantasy Halden Greenwood, her grandmother and her mother had woven. "I'm glad Isabel can no longer hurt you, whoever you are. I wish she'd quit messing with my life, though."

Six hours later, Ivy woke to meet the day with a scant five hours sleep. _But who wants to sleep when a LearJet is taking me to Scotland where I'm going to meet an aging billionaire claiming to be an Elf?_

The hand on her watch had just ticked over to eight o'clock when a black Mercedes rolled up outside Ivy's door.

_That's freaky, and how did the driver do that, anyway? s_he marveled._ Has he been idling down the block waiting to arrive at the very second San Francisco hit eight a.m.? Geez, but these people are scary. _

Picking up her purse, satchel and sketch pad, Ivy paused long enough for one last check of the passport and money tucked inside her pockets. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out the door and into the cool morning sunshine. Leaving home to begin the journey to Ithilien, she hoped she looked braver and more grown up than she felt.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

The driver leaped out of the waiting Mercedes to open the rear door for Ivy and usher her into the foreign world of white leather seats and luxury motor-car experiences. It took the driver but a moment to gently stow her one bit of luggage in the trunk before heading into morning traffic.

The ride seemed endless, and she couldn't quite shake the out-of-place feeling that overtook her. She, Ivy MacLeod, was being driven by a silent, uniformed chauffer to a private LearJet that was waiting just for her. It was exciting, but at the same time she felt like an imposter. She hadn't sorted out those feelings by the time the driver announced their arrival at the airport.

Ivy's fingers tightened on the armrest in rising anxiety as the Mercedes bypassed the main terminal and turned onto a side road skirting it. Driving through the private aircraft gate and onto the tarmac, the car delivered her to the airport official waiting by the plane.

She was urged out of the car with the same silent service with which she had been stuffed into it. Her passport was then examined by the airport official before being returned to her with a quiet, "Have a safe journey, Ms. MacLeod."

The official all but saluted before driving off in his little cart and leaving Ivy alone on the tarmac. The wind blew at her, making her feel all the more alone and out of place. Turning, she stared up at the LearJet whose waiting stairway led up into the unknown in more ways than one.

The little jet was small and sleek, gleaming white and elegant, and obviously expensive. Ivy jumped as a man emerged from the open cabin door and bounded down the stairs. Tall and rugged with a great smile, the man at least looked halfway friendly as he rattled off something in a Scots accent that Ivy assumed was a greeting. She managed to catch, "'m Alastair, yer pilot."

"I'm Ivy," she murmured.

She thought she heard, "Take yer bag," and do...something..."wi' it," a moment before he snagged her satchel. Those words were fast followed by, "get y'self aboard," but her comprehension was intuitional rather than actual.

_What was I thinking just the other day about Scottish burrs?_ She gave the pilot a nervous smile and nodded before climbing the stairs into the cabin and hesitating just inside the door.

Four broad, comfortable-looking, black leather captain's chairs waited within. Two small tables had been placed between each set of chairs, which meant a couple could fly facing each other and there was room to share a small meal if they so chose. The carpeting was thick and lush, the paneling made of gleaming ash.

Ivy's sneakers and jeans suddenly felt terribly inappropriate. Not daring to explore beyond the main cabin, she all but tiptoed to the seat closest to the door and up against the bulkhead. Shoving her purse beneath the seat, she slid her sketchpad in between the wall and the seat.

Alastair arrived seconds later to retract the stairs, secure the door, and say something else unintelligible. Ivy's blank expression must have identified the problem because he repeated himself. This time, he pointed to her seatbelt, which was dangling at the side of the chair.

"Oh, right. Thanks." She clicked the belt into place as he disappeared inside the cockpit and closed the door behind him.

Taking a deep breath, she made a conscious effort to let go the arms of the chair as the Lear's engines started. Moments later, she was being carried toward the runway and whatever adventures Halden Greenwood had planned for her.

_When you've already jumped down the rabbit hole, it's best not to consider second thoughts, _she decided, wishing her palms would stop sweating_. We'll see what we get when we get there._

Within minutes, the Lear lifted into the sky, and Ivy was soon lulled to sleep by the vibration of its engines.

# #

Ivy awoke some time later when the undercarriage touched down and the plane engines roared in reverse thrust. Glancing out the window, she saw a bleak, overcast world featuring tall fir trees and great drifts of snow.

_Are we in Scotland already?_ she wondered as they taxied to a long metal shed seemingly set in the middle of nowhere. A glance at her watch told her they'd been in the air only a few hours. _Where are we?_

Alastair emerged from his cockpit to open the cabin door and let in a rush of freezing air. Shivering, Ivy reached for her ski jacket and followed him down the narrow steps. The wind was bitterly cold, and her jacket didn't offer much protection.

"Don't be long, lassie," Alastair advised. "We'll be leavin' soon as I refuel and make a pickup."

_My ears are either getting better, or he's speaking more clearly for my sake. I hope he doesn't take off and leave me here. _Taking the pilot's warning to heart, Ivy bowed her head against the wind and hurried toward the wind-rattled, isolated terminal at the edge of the icy runway.

Approaching the heavy steel door leading into the building, Ivy's nose was nearly taken off when someone shoved through from the other side. Leaping backward, she barely evaded the sharp end of the long stick the man had in his hand. Wrapped up in a heavy fur parka and carrying a duffle bag, he ploughed past Ivy only to stop and turn back to her as she caught the door before it blew closed.

"Sorry," said a muffled voice, all but lost against the wind.

"That's all right."

He went on his way while she went in search of hot chocolate and a bathroom.

# #

Pushing back his hood, Legolas approached the pilot as the fuel truck pulled up. "Alastair McCormack?"

"Aye, m'laird." The man shook the Elf's hand before handing the airport refueler his company credit card. "Apologies for keepin' you waitin', we were delayed a bit."

"I hear it's expected these days."

"Aye." Alastair glanced at the refueler who was well out of earshot. "My father knew you when he was a boy, m'laird. It's many a story I've heard, and a long time I've waited to meet you. It's an honor to be workin' for you, can I stow your gear and your bow?"

Legolas slung the weapon over his shoulder. "I'll secure the bow inside the cabin."

"Of course, m'laird. And your duffle?"

"A moment." Settling the long bag on the ground, Legolas pulled out his knives and quiver full of arrows before letting the pilot claim it. "Thank you."

"My pleasure, m'laird. Now why not get up out of the cold and make yourself comfortable upstairs? We'll take off as soon as the little one returns."

_Little one?_ Legolas wondered. _He must have brought his child with him on the flight_. Irritation flashed briefly. _I hope he doesn't expect me to entertain his offspring. I have work to do._

Legolas studied the plane. "Will you check the wings for ice?"

"Aye, m'laird, but 'tis a precaution only. All during the flight here and before our next lift-off, the wings'll be heatin' themselves with bleed air from the engines."

"So we have an anti-ice system rather than a less reliable de-icing?" Legolas ventured.

Alastair nodded. "All Lears fly above the commercial jets at 40,000 feet where ice is common. But our lady flies so fast, her wings heat up from friction. So no worries."

"That is well."

Taking up his quiver, Legolas climbed the stairs and ducked inside the cabin. Shrugging out of his parka, the Elf tossed it across the chair closest to the door, set his bow against the other chair, and laid his quiver atop the parka. Moving about the cabin, he opened every compartment to inspect what was inside and locate the emergency equipment in case it was needed later.

Slamming one door a little too fiercely, the Elf smoothed the hapless wood in silent apology. He knew it was wrong to take his ill temper out on the cabinetry. Already, his irritation had resulted in his nearly running over someone as he had exited the terminal. _Nothing can change the fact that I do not want to be returning to Scotland, but that does not mean I must throw a tantrum worthy of the Evenstar herself._

The only access in and out of Meyer's Chuck, Alaska - where Legolas had spent the last half-century - was by float plane. Those living there, including the Elf, had liked it that way. He had arrived fifty-three years before with nothing but the clothes he wore and the skills he'd learned in Middle-earth. He left sullen and resentful at the necessity calling him home, with only a few more clothes and his weapons in hand.

_Having my knives with me is always an improvement. _He glanced at the cabinets again. _Best I store them out of reach of the child, who will hopefully share the cockpit with its father and leave me a little more time without the constant irritation of Mortal company. _

Legolas knew he had been too long away, and he would have been longer away, except that Haldir had contacted him via e-mail a few days before. Trouble was brewing on the company board – trouble from a certain board member who hadn't been there when Legolas had been in charge. Trouble from someone Haldir wasn't certain he could handle by himself.

_I can handle the board,_ Legolas thought. _What I am fast losing patience with is my inability to handle my own emotions. I spent over fifty years alone, yet I return feeling no better than the day I left._

He had been furious that day in Paris when he had walked away from Isabel Hamilton and left her to whatever fate had planned for her without him. No matter how much he had tried to show his love, she had made it very clear she wanted nothing to do with him: she wanted neither his protection or his love.

Legolas had tolerated her abuse long enough, had walked away in a fury and cut himself off from his own kind in an effort to heal. While in Alaska, he had also resolved to never let down his emotional walls and make the same mistake again.

_I wanted what I cannot have – to belong with someone and to someone, _he acknowledged, pacing the jet's small cabin like a caged tiger. _That's obviously impossible this side of Valinor. I have known that for millennia, so what foolishness made me delude myself into pursuing it with anyone, let alone Her?_

Haunted by the past, Legolas was also held prisoner by it – and not only Middle-earth's past with its War of the Ring and Aragorn's death and most of the Eldar's departure. He had only to drop into memory, and it was as if Isabel still lived, still taunted him for his imperfections and failure to please her. She still rejected him for his vulnerabilities as well as his needs, neither of which had been shared by her.

_Damn you to whatever hell exists for fallen daughters of time,_ Legolas thought, snatching open the next cabinet. _And damn my waking sleep that will not let you go. _

# #

The inside of Ivy's nose was freezing and so were her lungs as the cold air carried a burn all its own. Bounding up the jet's stairway, she re-entered the small cabin only to stop dead at the sight of a second passenger.

_Oops. Is that the pickup? I thought the pilot meant a package, not a person. _The cabin of the Lear suddenly seemed much, much smaller as she stared at the new occupant._ Who is that, and why do I have to travel with him?_

The new passenger was broad-shouldered and had an elegant back, all outlined beneath a tight black wool sweater. Hard muscles moved easily beneath it, and his waist-length blonde hair flowed with him as he reached into a cabinet. Slamming the door, he muttered in something that wasn't English.

He reached for the long-bow propped against the chair with a movement so fluid and graceful, Ivy thought she might never breathe again. Her heart skipped when a pointed ear peeked delicately through his hair and he half-turned toward her. Shadows dusted the skin beneath his high cheekbones, and all of him glowed in the cabin's dim lighting. Long, slender fingers secured the bow behind Ivy's chair, which led Ivy's gaze to the worn quiver waiting to be stowed.

She stared in disbelief at the faded blue peacock etched in the leather casing and holding court with a pair of long knives. Their metal glowed almost white in the cabin lighting_. Long... white... knives..._.

"Oh, my God," Ivy whispered.

He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of her voice, and Ivy fell into eyes the color of the sea.

"Mae govannen," she breathed.

"Suilaid."

His voice was low and beautiful. He turned toward her, and his aura vibrated with contained power and a strange beauty Ivy realized no book could ever convey. This, then, was an Elven warrior, and Ivy no longer doubted their existence.

She wouldn't have to reach Scotland to find out if Halden Greenwood was a crackpot wannabe. Before her was an Elf. Definitely an Elf. The first she had ever seen.

Nodding to Ivy in what felt like dismissal, the Elf reached to secure his quiver.

_He has to be Legolas, _Ivy's thoughts raced. _I'm stuck in a LearJet with the most dangerous of Elves, that's what I get for not believing they exist. Haldir of Lothlórien really did buy me pizza the other night, and I owe Mom a huge apology. _

_Oh, look at him, he's like the finest of stallions - all fire and strength and pride. I'd give anything to sketch him._

"You should sit down," he said in what she now recognized as Sindarin. "We'll be leaving soon."

"Pardon me, lassie." A harsher voice intruded before Ivy could reply. A pair of heavy hands landed on her hips. "I need to get by."

Startled, she sprang forward.

"Haldir said to give this to you." Alastair handed a cell phone to Legolas.

"Tapadh leat." The Elf turned on the phone. "My old one died in Meyers Chuck."

"Aye, Haldir said that, too. He's the first number on speed dial.

Legolas glared at the small thing in his hand. "Where is speed dial?"

"That button and then that one will get you to Haldir. That's all you'll be needing for now." The pilot turned from the Elf studying the cell phone to retract the plane's steps and secure the door. "Buckle yourselves in. Our next stop is New York City."

Alastair retreated back into his cockpit.

"Please." Legolas gestured to the seat nearest him. 'Sit' was the inherent order.

_He wants to sit closest to the door,_ Ivy realized. _In case of what? A UFO attack?_

Taking a deep breath, she frantically sought the right Sindarin verb tense and hoped she got it right. "I was sitting where you are now. Let me move my things."

Rather than step aside, Legolas reached down and searched the chair. Retrieving Ivy's purse and sketch pad, he all but shoved them at her. Ivy tucked away her things before sitting down in the chair farthest from him and was careful to never take her eyes off of him.

Long fingers snagged the seatbelt dangling at her side and thrust it at her. "Put this on. Now."

"Thank you," she whispered, again in Sindarin, and did as he ordered.

"Where did you learn the language you speak?" the Elf demanded in English.

"College," she whispered.

"Forget everything you think you learned."

She winced. "That bad?"

His smiled was tight, with the ghost of a dimple. "Yes."

"It's forgotten."

_I wonder what I said?_ came the frantic thought._ Did I address him in the wrong tense or as a child or something? Did I say something offensive? _

_Oooh, I forgot he hates my family. Mom warned me to avoid him, and she was right, but how can I possibly avoid him in here? _

The engines came alive, and the plane rolled toward the runway. Ivy scarcely noticed.

"You stare at me as if you've never seen an Elf before."

"I haven't. Until two days ago, I didn't know you existed outside of books and a few New Zealand films."

That won his silence for a few seconds. His gaze on her was unnerving, though. "Who are you?"

It wasn't a request for information, it wasn't even a demand. It was a command she dared not defy.

"My name is Ivy MacLeod." It took two tries for her to get it out, and even then her voice was little more than a whisper.

The blue eyes narrowed, and Ivy could sense the Elf tensing as if preparing for a fight. "You are Marian's daughter."

"And she-bitch Isabel's grand-daughter."

The Elf made a noise somewhere between startled and disgusted. Turning away, he settled back and gazed out the window. His fingers curled tight around the arm of the seat until his knuckles showed white, and every line of his slender body was rigid.

_There endeth the conversation, _thought Ivy. _Yup, I think maybe Mom was right about Elves, because this one does feel dangerous and very, very angry. If he were a stallion, I'd be waiting for his teeth to come at me. _

She watched him out of the corner of her eye for a long time, wondering if he'd turn her way again, but he never moved or spoke. An hour turtled by. Ivy wished she had the courage to reach for her pad and sketch to whittle away the time, but instinct told her not to attract the eye of the predator.

Reason said her instincts were being ridiculous: he was an Elf, not an assassin. Haldir had said Legolas would never hurt her, and Ivy hoped Haldir was right. It wasn't as though she could fight or run away, so Ivy settled for trying to breathe through the adrenaline rush and the butterflies in her stomach. She tried being as small and quiet as possible, so as not to draw his obvious wrath down on her.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Legolas thought the girl fell asleep somewhere over Ontario. Feeling her tension ease and hearing her breathing steady, he pulled out his new cell phone, punched the two buttons Alastair had pointed out, and waited.

"Yes, Legolas?" Haldir sounded far too amused for his own good.

"What is _she_ doing on my plane?"

"You were both in the general vicinity and traveling to the same meeting," came the reasonable answer. "Have you frightened her yet into ripping open the cabin door and jumping?"

"Don't be ridiculous. You told me Marian was a member of our board. What happened to her? Why are we hosting this - this child?"

"Marian recently married Reuben Matheson of Louisville, Kentucky and resigned before her association with us could result in Mr. Matheson demanding a quick annulment, or in the board accusing Marian of sleeping with the enemy."

"I see."

"How are you and Ivy getting on?"

"We've barely exchanged two sentences. It shall stay that way."

"So that's why you're speaking to me in Sindarin and ignoring her? Surely your father taught you better than that. Where did you leave your manners?"

"In Ithilien, centuries ago." He ground out the words. "Besides which, the girl is sleeping. Not to mention what little Sindarin she knows is atrocious. What in all the hells of Angmar possessed you to put me on a plane with Isabel's grand-daughter?"

"The two of you had to meet some time. Better it happen now than the morning of our meeting. Reports delivered to us over the years suggest that Ivy is nothing like Isabel, so do try to give her some small chance? Had I allowed you to meet here in Lairg, you'd have spent entire days avoiding her."

"Considering everything her family has put me through, that is best. I have no wish to interact whatsoever with any more Queen's Daughters."

Haldir sighed. "The girl knows nothing of us. She'll need someone to acclimate her to our ways."

"You have that task well in hand. Please continue as you began."

"Why, you little --"

"We will pass the night in New York. Once Alastair files his flight plan, he will let you know when we expect to arrive in Lairg. Good-night, Haldir. As always, I thank you for your efforts on my behalf, if not your thoughtfulness."

Legolas snapped closed the cell phone before Lothlórien's former marchwarden could sputter any reply, Doggedly ignoring his traveling companion, the Elf returned to brooding over the bank of clouds beyond the jet's left wing.

# #

Ivy jarred awake to a dark, chilled cabin. Uncurling painfully, she set her feet on the floor and winced as her back and neck protested the movement. Glancing at her watch, she saw that she'd been asleep for nearly four hours.

_Serves me right for reading about Isabel and her lover so late last night. _Stealing a glance at the Elf across the aisle, she thought,_ I swear he's in the same position as he was hours ago._

Squirming as an urgent physical need made itself known, Ivy glanced back at the narrow hallway behind their two seats. Two small sleeping bunks were visible at the aft end of the jet, but little else.

"Excuse me?" she whispered, hoping those elegant pointed ears would hear her.

Slowly, regally, the Elf turned his head. Cool blue eyes regarded her, but he did not speak.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but do you happen to know where the bathroom is?"

"Haldir recently purchased this plane." He matched her quiet tone. "I have never before been aboard."

"Oh. I didn't realize. I'm sorry to have bothered you."

"The facilities should not be difficult to find."

Rising in one smooth motion, the Elf stepped into the aisle, which sent Ivy leaping back against her seat to get out of his way. He didn't react, but continued to eye the rich ash paneling running from cabin floor to ceiling.

Ivy gathered the courage to creep along in his wake, urgency making her bolder than she would have been otherwise. She caught her breath as she realized her companion was glowing softly in the darkened cabin. The sound caught his attention, and he turned, his gaze questioning.

"Um, Hald...Haldir said we should look for the fireflies," Ivy offered, thinking fast, "but I don't know what he meant."

"I do." The Elf glanced upward, and Ivy followed his lead. Pinpricks of light sparkled on the ceiling.

"There are your fireflies." The Elf offered what might have been a smile, but to Ivy it more resembled a long-suffering grimace. "You'll soon learn that the marchwarden of Lothlórien indulges the whimsical."

"At the moment, I hope he indulged himself with some facilities on this plane."

"We shall see." He pressed a hand against the wood, and a compartment sprang open. "Closet."

Ivy explored a compartment on the other wall. "Flotation vests and flares."

The Elf moved farther down the corridor to locate another compartment. Longer and wider than the others, its door sprang open and the Elf pulled it back before nodding at Ivy. "Success."

"Thank you so much." She gave an embarrassed smile before slipping beneath his arm and inside the small compartment.

_Thank you? _Legolas stared at the closed closet door before turning to pad back up the aisle. _She thanked me. And she sounded sincere. Of course, that may have been need increasing her gratitude, but still she did say it. _

_Isabel never thanked me for anything. Ever. _He settled back into his chair. _Perhaps Haldir is right, it would not kill me to exchange words with this girl before the meeting. _He drummed his fingers on the armrest. _I have welcomed and mentored Queen's Daughters in the past, does this one deserve anything less? _

_Isabel lies in her grave. My bitterness toward her should not be allowed to influence my treatment of a child who has so far offered me only respect. And she has only just learned of us? How ill-prepared she is for the coming confrontation. How brave she is to fly alone across an ocean to confront a bevy of Elves she has met only in realms of fantasy. She has no idea what awaits her in Scotland, or the Machiavellian board members she will meet. _

_I am certainly guilty of being in conflict with her these past hours, and my irritable manner cannot have been comfortable for her to endure. How foolish and rude of me to indulge in such temper toward her, as I may find myself needing her support in the days to come. I told Haldir the truth, my manners have been lost to me for some time. It seems this is the time to reclaim them._

# #

The girl in question returned a short while later. Looking puzzled, she remarked, "The soap Haldir provided is deep purple, and I don't recognize the scent."

"Elderflower. It is made in Lairg, as it was in Imladris."

"Lairg?" she ventured, recognizing the word as one Haldir had mentioned on the phone.

"The village below my home in Scotland. The scent is said to uplift the spirit."

"It's lovely." Ivy didn't voice her gratitude that the soap hadn't stained her Gentian Violet purple.

Settling back, she refastened her seatbelt before the Elf could order her to do so. Her fingers fumbled slightly as he never stopped watching her.

_Is this what prey feels like?_ she wondered.

"I am told your mother did not prepare you for us."

_His tone seems to have softened, _Ivy noted_, along with his mood. Maybe he had a nap, too?_ "My mother said only that Haldir is a sweetheart, and you are dangerous."

"Did she?" Narrowing his eyes, the Elf rested his chin in the palm of his hand. "Exactly who do you think I am, Ivy MacLeod?"

"Legolas Thranduilion."

His smile had the affect of softening his gaze and briefly revealing his dimples. "I am Legolas, but to the Mortal world I am Lee Greenwood the Third, and you must not forget to use that name while we are among Men. Did Marian tell you of our business endeavors?"

"No. My mother married Reuben Matheson recently, and she was afraid he'd catch her talking about Greenwood. So even if she wanted to tell me more, she was too afraid to try. She told me to contact Haldir, and I did a bit of Internet research before calling him. So, um...big and wealthy is about all I know." She took a deep breath and dared question the Dangerous One before his mood shifted again. "Did you really do everything Tolkien said you did?"

"A fair bit." He inclined his head. "So your mother thinks Haldir is...a sweetheart, but she has little use for the rest of us?"

"Mom seems really timid about anything to do with Elves," Ivy tentatively explained. "I'm sure Isabel told my mother some biased stories, but since my mother never met you, I don't think she has any right to judge. All I know is Haldir really took charge and fixed some stuff for me when I called him a couple of nights ago."

"Stuff?"

Ivy nodded. "He paid my mortgage and my heating bill and ordered me a pizza, all from thousands of miles away. It was pretty amazing."

"Haldir enjoys taking care of people. He will be happy to know he pleased you." The Elf studied her in silence for a moment. "Do you believe I am dangerous?"

She started to reply, only to hesitate before beginning again. "You're a warrior, so of course you can be dangerous. Violent even, when you need to be. Protectors usually are. Dangerous, I mean."

Legolas leaned toward her, and Ivy resisted the impulse to pull back from the intensity he projected. "Did you just now weigh polite Mortal society's need for empty words of reassurance against your instinct to speak the truth?"

"Um...yes," she admitted, feeling her color rise.

The Elf stretched his long legs before him, crossed his arms, and gave a lazy smile. "Never be afraid to speak your truth when dealing with Elvenkind, Ivy MacLeod. Falsehoods in the name of politeness are still lies. Only remember that, for us, words contain the power to create or destroy, so it is good for you to consider their effect before you speak. You must also know that I would never hurt you."

"Okay," she said, more because Legolas seemed to expect an acknowledgement than out of any real understanding of what he'd just said.

"Tell me again why you stare at me so," he all but commanded.

She immediately dropped her gaze. "I don't mean to. It's just that up until two days ago I believed you were only a fantasy character. I thought my mother had gone crazy when she told me you were real."

"And now?" The Elf's voice dropped to a dangerous purr.

She shivered slightly. "I believe in you. There's no mistaking you."

"I suppose not." His blue eyes studied her at length. "You offer me respect where Isabel offered none. She resented what she perceived as my superiority over her and fought long and hard to prove herself my equal."

"I...I don't think I'm...that I'd ever dare...I mean, you're Elven and immortal. Of course you're superior. Last night I read the journal Isabel left behind, so I have some small idea of what she put you through." She winced as his blue eyes grew hard. "I'm sorry, I know her journal is an invasion of your privacy, but I wanted to know how crazy she got with you."

His eyes didn't soften, so Ivy tore her gaze away to stare at her dirty sneakers instead. "She was really crazy with you. Oblivious and cruel. After everything she did, it hardly seems fair that you have to put up with me."

"I am not upset with you. You are not Isabel."

"But you're upset all the same."

"Not with you," Legolas repeated. "Haldir is experiencing some difficulty with a board member. I must return and deal with the problem, but I would rather have stayed in Alaska. I also stink. That is all."

Her head snapped up, and she stared at him. "You what?"

"I have not bathed properly since winter began because the ice was thick and the water most cold where I lived. I did not expect to encounter anyone else on this journey. It embarrasses me to realize I most likely smell of the bear parka I wore from the wilderness."

"I don't blame you for not wanting to bathe in ice, and I've smelled bear before."

He threw her a look of blatant disbelief.

"I grew up on a ranch in Darby, Montana," she explained. "My grandfather shot a few bears, and I don't think you smell bad at all."

"You are very gracious."

"Is there anything I can do to help? _Stay out of your way, perhaps? Stay out of your life?_

"You must vote as your conscience dictates at the meeting. Haldir will prepare us both for what is to come."

She shivered and rubbed her arms.

"Are you cold?" Legolas asked.

"A little. Haldir tried to warn me, but I don't think I packed very well for this trip."

Rising, the Elf retrieved the aforementioned bear parka and handed it down to her. "If the smell truly does not offend, you may wish to put this on. It will keep you warm."

Taking the coat, she shrugged into it. "Did you kill the bear yourself?"

"Yes. But only after he broke into my cabin in search of something to eat and tried to add me to the list." Sliding back a panel in the arm of his chair, Legolas briefly studied the array of colored buttons revealed there before pressing one. "Alastair."

"M'laird?"

"Please raise the cabin temperature a few degrees."

"Certainly, m'laird."

"If you were anything like Isabel," said Legolas, watching Ivy burrow into the parka, "you would have rejected that coat in favor of buying a four-thousand dollar Russian sable on Madison Avenue."

She wrinkled her nose, grateful for the warmth his smelly coat provided. "Madison Avenue really isn't my style. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"The answers are yours if they are mine to give."

"Professor Tolkien's books...are they real? Accurate, I mean?"

"Essentially, yes." Steeping his fingers, Legolas swung his chair closer so that his knees were nearly touching hers. "I was living in Lairg when _The Hobbit_ was published in 1937. The Elves remaining in this world thought it an innocuous revelation since it was a book written for children."

"How did Tolkien find out--"

"Julien Lovell is a member of our board. He is an Elf and was given an Elven name, but refuses to use it. Born in 1872, Julien was raised in London by parents who have since gone Oversea. Attending Judas College in Oxford as an amusement early in this century, he set about obtaining a seat at graduation in their ancient history department as a further amusement. During his tenure, he met a certain professor of linguistics and confided our history to the professor over a series of months.

"I was living in Alaska when _The Fellowship of the Ring_ was released in 1954," Legolas continued. "Haldir wrote me with some alarm, but since the letter was delayed six months he was forced to deal with the matter himself, as well as with the matter of _The Two Towers_ being published only four months later.

"The board disciplined Julien, who resigned his Oxford seat at their request. As the entire book was in the publisher's hands and two-thirds of it had already reached the public, there was little we could do beyond that. Luckily, it has been fairly simple for our communities to conceal themselves using a variety of techniques we've employed for many years. It also helped that some of the details Julien shared are inaccurate because he did not live through the events he revealed, and that he did not confide anything to the professor beyond the Fourth Age. We are also fortunate that the topography of Middle-earth has changed dramatically over the millennia, so that little to do with us is easily traceable."

"What's different now?" Ivy asked.

"For one thing, the forest entirely reclaimed Imladris after Lord Elrond departed to the Undying Lands, and the Celts settled in the area some centuries later. Located in Wales, what was Imladris became a coal mine."

"That's terrible," Ivy breathed, horrified.

"It is not so terrible to those of us who would prefer Middle-earth remain but a fantasy to the world of Men. Another example is that the extinct volcano of Mordor lies beneath Edinburgh. The castle is built on its remains."

"You're kidding."

"Would that I were."

"What about Ithilien?" Ivy asked cautiously.

Legolas' smile was immediate and warm. "North Ithilien has survived. You will see for yourself tomorrow, when we arrive in Lairg."

Ivy shook her head. "How in the world did your corporation become involved with my family?"

Legolas' expression grew solemn. "I made a promise to Aragorn."

"Oh, wow. He wasn't just a character in a book? He actually lived?"

"He lived," Legolas confirmed. "I promised to watch over and protect his line, and you are a descendant of that line. You are the Queen's Daughter."

Ivy blinked. "Even if I am related to Arwen and Aragorn, I'm obviously no half-Elven princess. There must be hundreds of generations between us."

"You are the Queen's Daughter," Legolas insisted.

"Um...okay." Unable to wrap her mind around what the Elf was telling her, Ivy sought to redirect the conversation. "Why is the Queen's Daughter on your board?"

"You are aware that some Elves came to live in North Ithilien after the War of the Ring?" Off of Ivy's nod, he continued. "Our board was originally a council was originally created to accommodate those Elves. After Aragorn died, the council decreed that the eldest Queen's Daughter of each generation was to hold a chair at our table."

"So your council replaced Elrond's?"

"As much as it could at the time without his wisdom to guide it. Lúthien was promised her line would never die, and the Evenstar's line has been preserved through every first-born daughter. Aragorn's mortal line continued through his sons to intermarry with the daughters of Men including the bloodlines of Gondor and Rohan. But those cities fell to ruin eventually along with the rest of Middle-Earth.

"North Ithilien's original holdings were entrusted to me by Aragorn during his reign as king of Gondor, but as the generations passed Eowyn and Faramir's people joined us as well. Ithilien became a closed community after Gondor fell some years later, and the people now living in Lairg are the descendents of those who lived in ancient Ithilien, Gondor and Rohan.

"We were sustaining for millennia. Our isolation ended after the Roman Empire invaded Britain and the world of Men intruded. We had to choose between accommodating them to some degree, or perishing as their evolution overtook us. In what you know as the Middle Ages, we established ventures in ship-making and distilleries, textiles and fair lending in times of usury. Much of what we began is still part of our subsidiaries to this day. Greenwood Enterprises was established as a holding company – a legal, umbrella entity that oversees everything else - and so the council evolved into a corporate board of directors."

Ivy tried to keep up. "So what you're saying is that for the past...however many thousands of years...you've personally been responsible for looking after every Queen's Daughter that came along, any other descendents of the Telcontar line, and also any Elves and Mortals in general who came to settle in Ithilien?"

"Yes. Haldir and the twins helped."

"The twins. Elrond's twins? Elladan and Elrohir never went Oversea?"

Legolas nodded. "Their aid has been invaluable. Others involved themselves as well across the ages."

"Yeah, but I notice Haldir didn't send up a flare for the twins or anyone else when he needed help," Ivy noted. "You're the one flying home from your sabbatical to put out the fire."

"There are extenuating circumstances."

"Maybe. But it still sounds like you've taken care of everyone and everything for hundreds of years, but they can't take care of themselves for even fifty?"

"I made a promise, they did not. There are also other concerns at work, about which you know nothing." Setting his jaw, Legolas looked away. "Yet."

Ivy thought about that. "Things you can't tell me for fear of influencing my vote at this meeting?"

"Yes."

Expelling a sharp breath, Ivy thought it prudent to choose another topic of discussion. "The Internet said Haldir's personal worth is something like twenty-five billion pounds. Is that true?"

"I have been away since 1951 and so am not familiar with the figure. But it is probably close to that amount, which in turn should be similar to the worth of every other board member. Greenwood itself is worth a great deal more."

"You've done really well," she said quietly.

"I am glad you think so. The Queen's Daughters have sat openly on Greenwood's board of directors since British law evolved in the nineteenth century to allow women to hold property. Before that, they and the other female Elves on the board sat in secret."

Legolas leaned forward, his blue eyes intense. "Queen's Daughter is a position you hold by right of birth, Ivy. That right that has been passed in a direct line from Arwen and Aragorn's first-born daughter in an unbroken line from mother to daughter. The position is yours until you pass it on as your mother did, or until the time of your death. You are entitled to your share of the corporation's dividends for as long as you live, whether you actively serve on the board or not."

"Dividends?" she whispered.

"The monies are paid quarterly into your account, which Haldir will see to if he hasn't already. As you observed earlier, we've done very well for ourselves over the centuries. A few have dared called it 'insanely wealthy.' It is every Queen's Daughter's right to share in that wealth."

Ivy's eyes widened. "Simply by being _born_?"

"Yes."

She thought for a moment. "Did my mother know about this?"

"Marian was an active member in my absence, so she must have known."

"I don't think my mother has ever used any of the money Haldir provided."

"Perhaps she mistrusted Elven money as she mistrusted us," Legolas suggested.

Ivy nodded. "She worked as a legal secretary, and we struggled every year to pay the bills and property taxes on the house in San Francisco. The mortgage wasn't paid off when my grandmother died, and my mother also had to take out an equity loan to repair the roof when I was in high school. Mom used to tell me we'd never be rich, so I could forget that fairy tale."

"That fairy tale has now become truth."

"You're serious, aren't you?" Off of Legolas' nod, she pursued, "You're really that wealthy?"

He regarded her mildly. "How much did you say Haldir was worth?"

"Um... around twenty-five billion."

"We have been making money and compounding interest for a very long time."

"Congratulations. The mind boggles." Ivy grinned at him. "I still don't understand why you'd want a Mortal to sit on your Elven board. We're so inferior to your race, it must be like inviting a toddler to sit in with a group of nuclear physicists."

"You are no Mortal, Ivy MacLeod. You are one of us."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not. I can't be, even if I am related to Arwen and Aragorn. He wasn't immortal, and Arwen loved him so much, she gave up her immortality. I thought only Elrond, his brother and their kids were able to choose their race, or was the professor wrong about that, too?"

"He was not wrong. What the professor was not told, and therefore did not relay, is that for reasons unknown to all except Iluvator, the first-born daughter of every Telcontar generation has proven immortal."

"But that would mean there have been hundreds of Queen's Daughters!" Ivy exclaimed. "Why haven't I heard from any them, or at least gotten invitations to the annual family reunion?"

"Because every Queen's Daughter I have ever known chose to live in the world of Men and somehow gotten herself killed," Legolas said sharply. "Like Isabel."

"Every one of them?" Ivy echoed, a shiver running down her spine.

"Yes, with the current exception of your mother and yourself. And Arwen, of course, but we do not speak of her."

"You don't speak of--"Ivy sputtered. "Oh, come on, you can't stop the story there. Arwen followed Aragorn into death, didn't she?"

"She tried." Legolas shook his head and seemed both disgusted and amused at the memory. "Long she mourned Aragorn, for she did love him. A year after his death, her brothers and I escorted Arwen back to Lorien. She claimed to be fading, but we never saw any sign of it.

"Together, we approached Cerin Amroth and the Queen of Gondor lay down on the forest floor. Her skirts flowed gracefully across the leaves and moss, she closed her eyes and waited for death to claim her. Waited, that is, until I informed her at sunset that bugs had begun making a home in her hair for the night. Lurching to her feet, Arwen began dancing about, shrieking for me to get the bugs off of her. That was the end of that. She faded no more."

"So she's still around?"

"Yes. But as I said, we do not speak of her. She does not travel and is not a member of our board. You will not meet her in Scotland."

"Is she in seclusion, still mourning for Aragorn after all this time?" The question earned her an icy glare, so Ivy changed the subject. "So...um...what you're telling is that I'm immortal as well as going to be rich?"

"Yes."

"How am I supposed to deal with this?" Ivy whispered as her stomach turned somersaults and her brain refused to process the news. "How did the other Queen's Daughters deal with this?"

The plane's engines slowed in the next instant, and the Lear began losing altitude.

"We seem to be approaching the airport," said Legolas, glancing out of the window. "Let us prepare to land and resume our conversation later. We'll be staying the night in New York, as our pilot must rest."

"Okay," Ivy agreed with reluctance. Her mind whirled with what she'd been told, and what her mother had not dared to tell her.

_I can't be immortal. I mean, I've been getting older and aging right along. Right?_ A little voice in Ivy's mind pointed out that while her mother was forty-five, Marian didn't look a day older than thirty.

_How does someone live forever in this world? _Glancing at Legolas, she wanted desperately to ask him, as well as a hundred more questions he'd raised by dropping a series of bombshells on her psyche.

The plane dipped again, and Ivy chewed her lip as she sensed the rabbit hole into Elfland had, with Legolas' entrance, transformed itself into an emotional roller coaster.

_There's no time to think about any of this right now,_ Ivy realized. _All I can do is keep riding the roller coaster and hope it doesn't derail._


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

_Where did the day go?_ wondered Ivy, staring out of the Lear's window to see that it was already dark in New York and lightly snowing.

"It's probably best if you leave behind the bearskin and wear your own jacket," Legolas observed as Ivy gathered her things and the plane taxied to a halt. "That smell is not first impression we wish to make on New York."

"I suppose not." She did as he suggested with reluctance, for as smelly as the parka was, it was warmer than her own ski jacket ever would be. _And it's his,_ she thought. _That makes it special._

Ivy followed Legolas down the jet's stairway and across the wet tarmac to where a gleaming black Phantom Rolls Royce waited in the night. A gray-suited driver emerged to nod politely at Legolas.

"You are Mr. Greenwood?"

"I am."

"Welcome to New York, sir." He opened the back door. "I have the honor of driving you in to the Four Seasons Hotel. Please make yourself comfortable while we tuck away your luggage."

"Thank you."

With a hand to Ivy's elbow, Legolas guided her to the elegant car and slid in beside her. The door closed and a silent world descended as Ivy sank into the plush black lounge seat. Soft instrumental music played from unseen speakers. _This car leaves the Mercedes from this morning looking like a poor cousin. And did I leave home only this morning?_

"One used to be able to hear nothing but the clock ticking while sitting inside one of these," he murmured.

"Most clocks have batteries now and don't tick at all." Ivy peered at the round clock featured prominently in the middle of the dash. "Even if this one ticks, you probably couldn't hear it through the privacy shield."

"Pity."

Within seconds, they were underway with Alastair sitting up front with the driver and the stately Rolls carrying them into the heart of Manhattan. With the press of a button, Legolas slid down the glass separating them.

"Would you mind turning off the music?"

"Certainly, sir."

The glass slid back up. Dead silence followed, by the Elf's command.

_He must not like elevator music any more than I do,_ Ivy reflected.

The Elf drummed his fingers on the soft leather. "I should prepare you for what comes next, but I've been away so long I'm not sure what comes next. Have you ever been to New York?"

"No."

"I've not been back for years. Haldir told me that a few days ago the media was informed Halden Greenwood is in failing health. It was said his son Lee Greenwood the Third, who has been raised and educated in seclusion, is poised to take over his father's duties. Some people are greatly interested in the heir apparent to Greenwood Limited. From the moment we emerge from this car, we should expect the unexpected."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Ivy asked cautiously.

"It means we must not react in public, no matter what happens. Also, you must remember to call me Lee. At some point during our stay in New York, we will probably encounter a photographer seeking to obtain the first photo of Lee Greenwood. If you wish to preserve your privacy, you should stay with Alastair. The media will then dismiss and ignore you."

"I don't mind if I'm photographed with you."

Legolas gave a thin smile. "You say that now, but most people take their privacy for granted until they lose it. If you walk beside me, you will be on display whenever we are in public. Lee Greenwood's insane wealth and unmarried status makes him of interest and prey to some Mortals. That interest is likely to include any female companion. That is the nature of the media beast we will be facing, here in New York and elsewhere."

"You speak of Lee as if the two of you are separate."

"We are. I am not him; he is the mask I must wear in the world of Men." Legolas flipped open his cell phone. "I must speak with Haldir before we reach the hotel. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to interrupt."

The conversation was conducted entirely in Elvish, but no matter its seductive beauty, Ivy could understand only the odd word – mostly her own name – so she chose to watch the cityscape gliding by instead of trying to eavesdrop. The endless array of lights and traffic, tall buildings and people were more than a little intimidating.

_New York feels nothing like San Francisco. I'm so glad I'm not on my own here._ Laying back her head, she closed her eyes and let Legolas' low voice and the motion of the car soothe her.

_I'm starving_, she realized on the edge of sleep, recalling that the last thing she'd eaten was a couple pieces of toast and a diet cola before leaving home. _Home is so far away now._

# #

Ivy awoke when Legolas gave her arm a slight shake.

"We're here."

Sitting up, she gathered herself to follow the Elf as the driver opened the door. Ivy's artist's mind recorded that the glittering light bulbs of the Four Seasons' canopy made Legolas' long hair flow like liquid gold as he stepped from the Rolls. The next thing that hit her was a cold gust of wind and the jarring noise of the street that was so much at odds with the Phantom silence she was leaving.

Legolas reached back a hand, and Ivy grasped it automatically. That the Elf himself was attached to the hand was something her weary mind only semi-registered as he slid an arm around her waist and pulled her against him.

"Remember," he murmured so close to her ear that she felt his warm breath on her skin. "Stay close to Alastair, and call me Lee."

Alastair stepped up beside her as Legolas' warmth slipped away. He strode boldly through the glass-and-brass entry held open by a black-gloved doorman, with Ivy and the pilot following in his wake.

_Limestone columns, a high backlit ceiling, and furnishings like an upper-class living room's, _her artist's brain dutifully noted about the Four Seasons' lobby_._ _Gather around, children. You're about to experience a truly grown-up hotel, where lots of money is being made and spent all over the place._

Following at tall Alastair's side and trying to look everywhere at once but not be obvious about it, Ivy saw ties properly cinched, custom-tailored suits freshly pressed, and expensive shoes perfectly polished. _Where's Legolas – no, where's Lee - in all of this?_

There he was, loitering at the express check-in window and looking like a bored Ivy League undergrad in a pair of faded jeans and a black wool sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. The Elf's mane of blonde hair cascaded down his back, rippling and flowing in the subdued lighting.

_On any other man,_ Ivy thought,_ that hair would look effeminate._

Shoving his hands into his pockets, the Elf coolly regarded the model-thin clerk on duty while Ivy snuck closer, the better to eavesdrop.

"My name is Lee Greenwood. I believe you have a room for me."

The clerk's smile revealed teeth so perfect and white they had to be capped. Her makeup was as flawless as her teeth, her gray suit immaculate.

"Good evening, Mr. Greenwood. Your father called to arrange everything, and the three-bedroom Royal Suite has been prepared for your use." She handed him a card-key. "Please let us know how we can make your stay with us more enjoyable."

Staring at the card-key, he turned it between his fingers. "I would like a car to drop us off at the Catacombs later this evening."

"The Rolls has been reserved for your use," was the clerk's immediate response. "Unless you'd rather have the Maybach?"

"My father would never forgive me if I requested the Maybach."

"Two hundred thousand pounds, that Maybach cost," Alastair whispered, standing behind Ivy.

She whistled low in appreciation.

The pilot shook Ivy's elbow. "Here now, lass. Don't be drawing attention to us."

"Sorry. What are the Catacombs?" she asked, never taking her eyes off of Legolas.

"What's called the tunnels under Rockefeller Center. There's shops and the like under the street."

"Could you please recommend a good Italian restaurant near the Catacombs?" Legolas was now asking the clerk.

"Puccini's is located across the street from where the Rolls will be dropping you. May I call and let them know you'll be arriving soon?"

Peering fitfully at the bank of clocks displaying international time behind the desk, Legolas followed up his performance by squinting. "I'm a bit shortsighted. What time is it now?"

"Seven-forty, sir."

"Please make a reservation for three to arrive between eight-thirty and nine."

"Very well, sir."

Turning on his booted heel, Legolas set off across the lobby. He gathered both of his companions with an arched eyebrow and a disapproving look that suggested he'd heard Ivy's whistle and every word of the whispered conversation that had followed. Unrepentant, Ivy sprinted a little and fell into step beside the Elf. Alastair trailed behind.

"What floor did they put us on?" Ivy asked.

"The thirty-second. I trust it's private." He led the way to the nearest bank of elevators.

A flash of light startled Ivy.

"What the--" She drew back, only to feel Alastair fetching up against her back.

"Steady, lass. Don't stop moving, or they'll have the laird for sure."

"Remember that photographer I warned you about earlier?" Legolas murmured.

They halted at the elevator and suddenly said photographer was leaping between it and them, driving Ivy farther back against Alastair while the lens was very nearly in Legolas' face. Two more flashes of light, and the man melted back into the decorative foliage while Ivy ducked her head and blinked in a vain effort to clear the spots before her eyes.

"I can't see," she whispered.

Legolas made what sounded like a growl as he slid an arm around a still-blinking Ivy to guide her inside the elevator. "Don't look at the camera next time. And keep your head down, as next time seems to be right now."

Turning with Legolas, she stared at the floor to protect what was left of her vision as Alastair joined them and more white light popped.

"You need to use that card-key of yours to get to the floor we want," the pilot said, sotto voce.

"Right. Thank you, gentlemen," Legolas addressed the photographers. Stepping forward, he jammed the card-key into the proper slot and punched the close button on the elevator panel. It seemed to take far too long before the car began its stomach-lurching rise to the thirty-second floor.

"They got Ivy." Alistair's tone suggested he was announcing her death.

"I told you to stay back with Alastair. Why didn't you?"

"There wasn't time. That...person...jumped out of the bushes, and everything happened so fast."

"Elden won't be pleased," Alastair warned.

Finally able to see once more, Ivy glanced between the two men. "Who's Elden?"

Legolas shrugged and ignored the question. "He has been displeased with me before. In any case, the media will not be able to identify her and should crop her image from any photos they may publish."

"Aye, let's hope so."

Ivy lightly nudged the Elf beside her. "You didn't even have to check in. What's up with that?"

"My father took care of everything in advance, so the only thing required upon check-out is my signature. They'll send on the bill on to him."

"Why are they being so nice?"

"Nice?" Alastair snorted. "They're not being nice, they're groveling. Basking in Halden Greenwood's fame and hoping to get his son's custom and more gold in the future. Make no mistake, lassie. It's plenty of inns I've seen while flying the elder Greenwood about, and this Four Seasons is no more than a shabby innkeeper's assembly line."

"What?" said Ivy, lost between the Scot's burr and his meaning.

"I think Alastair is saying if we watch closely, it will be fairly obvious that this hotel runs on two tracks."

The Scot nodded. "One's for the anonymous, and the other is for the anointed."

"So they think Lee is anointed, and that's why they're being nice?"

"Aye."

Legolas sighed. "Ivy, since you have Peredhil blood as well as Telcontar, you will undoubtedly learn to be less than impressed with such efforts. I believe, however, this hotel is one of my father's favorites."

"Halden's favored it with his Manhattan custom since it opened," the pilot confirmed. "But I ken there's nae so much groveling at the Ritz."

The elevator deposited them on a narrow corridor with sumptuous royal blue carpeting with golden fleur-de-lis, at the end of which was a white door bearing a brass plaque brazenly announcing, 'The Royal Suite.'

"The only royalty hereabout about is imported," Alastair groused, following his companions down the corridor.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

Alastair had no sooner shown Legolas how to open the suite door with his card-key than the elevator opened again and out spilled two bellhops guiding a cart loaded with their luggage.

"Good evening," said the first, all but bowing before slipping past the trio of guests to flip on the lights.

The bellhop with the cart headed down the long hallway. Entering what looked like a living room, Ivy caught her breath at the night view of glittering skyscrapers that didn't even look real. Vaguely, she was aware of one of the bellhops explaining that the suite had seven plasma televisions, a DVD player, and two wall safes that recharged laptop computers. In each room was a remote control for adjusting the drapes.

The suite, relayed the bellhop, also had two bedrooms featuring king-size beds, and an adjoining library that could function as a third bedroom as the couch pulled out into a double bed.

"Where is the fax machine?" asked Legolas.

"In the library, sir. First door on your left down the hall."

"Please put my duffle in there. Alastair, you'll have the bedroom on the right, it is the most quiet. Ivy, you'll take the large bedroom near the front door."

"You should let me take the pull-out in the library while you take the big bedroom," she protested as the bellhops began sorting the luggage into the respective rooms.

"The library suits my needs," said Legolas. "I do not require a bed, as I'll be working through the night."

"Oh."

One of the bellhops returned with a wicker gift basket and set it on the table. 'For Ivy,' declared the pink envelope secured to the crackling purple mylar wrap. Two Beanie-Baby bears eyed her from their perch on a mountain of Godiva chocolate.

"Here now, you've got a present from the hotel," said Alastair.

"Oh, how sweet." _And expensive, I'll bet. _Ivy summoned a smile.

"I didn't get a present."

Legolas sounded petulant, and Ivy stared at him. _Is that a pout? And, if it is, is it Legolas or Lee pouting?_

One bellhop disappeared down the hallway. Within seconds, he was back with two more gift baskets wrapped in blue mylar. Their baby-blue cards were addressed to Lee and Alastair respectively.

"Our pardon, gentlemen." Twin bows from both bellhops this time, and Legolas handed over their tips. Ivy thought the bills were fifties, but couldn't be certain. "If you require anything at all, please don't hesitate to call the front desk or the concierge. Enjoy your evening."

They slipped out of the suite, their footsteps whispering on the thick carpeting.

Tearing open his gift basket, Legolas handed his two Four Seasons Beanie Baby bears to Alastair. "For your little ones."

"My thanks, m'laird. I've five littles at home."

Ivy tore into her own basket. "Here, take mine as well."

"That's one more as I'd need," he protested.

"Wouldn't your wife like one as well?" asked Ivy.

"Aye, she would. Thank you, that's right generous of you." Cuddling his four bears, the pilot picked up his gift basket. "Now, there's a restaurant and a night callin' the two of you, but there's a bath and bed callin' me if I'm to fly you home tomorrow."

"What about your supper?" asked Legolas, breaking off a generous piece of chocolate and popping it into his mouth.

"I'll be ordering something from room service. And it's something more substantial you'll be needing for your supper than sweets, laddie." Scowling at the laird, Alastair and his bears disappeared around the corner.

Ivy stared at the space the pilot had just vacated. "I can't believe he used that tone on you."

"We take care of the villagers of Lairg, and they take care of us." Crossing to the cash bar, the Elf swung back its door. Pulling another Four Seasons bear from within, he held it out to Ivy. "You need a replacement, I believe?"

"I don't need...I mean, it's sweet of you to think so, but..." She stared from him to the bar. "Lee, rule one in these places is that you never, ever so much as breathe on the bar because they'll charge you for it. That seven-dollar bear is going to cost you...oh! you have no idea."

Legolas laughed outright at Ivy's panicked tone, and she stared at the deep dimples revealed. _Gods, but he's gorgeous when he smiles._

"I saw the look of longing you cast your bears as Alastair carried them off." He shook the little stuffed toy at her. "Please take charge of this one, else I'll have to carry it home to Haldir who never takes proper care of any bear."

"No?"

"He prefers playing with a toy oliphant, not a bear."

Taking the pale blue bear, Ivy followed the Elf from the room. "Say what?'

"The castle has a small, shabby oliphant replica on wheels," Legolas explained, leading the way into the bath. "I've no idea where it came from originally, but Haldir enjoys torturing me with it. He will place it in the most outlandish and unexpected places, so that it leaps out and startles me. When last I saw the creature, it had three arrows embedded in its thick neck."

"Um...with your bow's compliments?"

"Of course." He flicked on the bathroom's light switch.

There was gleaming black and white marble everywhere, which made for a stark elegance Ivy had glimpsed only in movies. The tub was sparkling white, deep and broad, with a separate, enclosed shower. The thickest of white towels were stacked above and below the counter featuring two deep sinks. There was even a scale and--

"Good lord, there's a television in here!" Ivy exclaimed. Stepping further into the gleaming room, she poked a finger at the bountiful assortment of beautifully packaged soaps and lotions housed on the counter. "These are sybaritic toiletries."

"They look like Bvlgari to me."

Ivy cast Legolas a slanting glance, but it was impossible to tell if he was laughing at her.

"Haldir said the tub fills in sixty seconds." Casually, the Elf flipped on the controls, and a furious whirlpool of water exploded from the tap. A sensor turned off the flood seconds later.

"That's kind of scary," said Ivy, wide-eyed. "What if the sensor fails or you put in bubble bath? What if you don't like the water temperature they've chosen for you?"

Legolas shrugged. "In the first instance, ask room service to clean up the mess. In the second, ask them to bring a thermometer, turn off the sensor, and manually refill the space to your expectations."

Ivy stared at the steam rolling off the still-swirling water. "Now what happens?"

"Now, I take a bath in sybaritic warmth which is infinitely more welcoming than a freezing Alaskan lake."

Ivy blinked as visions of a naked Elf began dancing in her head. _He has such beautiful lines. It was stupid of me to leave my sketchpad on the plane._ Feeling her face grow hot, she backed out of the bath. "I'll leave you to it."

"There's no rush. I need to speak with Haldir while the water finishes swirling." That dimpled smile appeared once more as Legolas paced after her, and Ivy thought he definitely had to be playing with her.

Entering the library, Legolas approached the desk and eyed the fax/printer with much suspicion. "Do you know how to use one of these?"

"I think you just give Haldir the phone number and make sure it's turned on. He should do the rest from his end to make the pages magically appear." Ivy wandered over to the window, where the Chrysler Building and the Empire State Building lit up the night, looked almost close enough to touch. "Wow."

Legolas spared the skyline a brief glance. "No need to go to Top of the Rock, I see."

"What's that?"

"An observation deck atop Rockefeller Center." Flipping open his cell phone, he called Haldir.

_Again with the Elvish,_ Ivy thought, letting the words wash over her. _I wish I understood what he was saying. It feels like I should, not that the feeling helps at all._

The machine beeped, and paper began printing. Snapping closed the cell phone, Legolas stared at the magic. "Haldir has many pages to send."

"There's plenty of paper. Even if the printer runs out, the machine should store everything in memory."

"Memory," Legolas echoed. "It has its own brain, then? How amazing." The Elf glanced from his phone to the fax machine. "Cell phones, printers and faxes. Communications that race around the world in a matter of seconds when they used to take many weeks. These are miraculous things." He gave a sigh. "The world has moved on while I have stood still. Much has changed, and I must learn it. Quickly."

"You've adapted really well to everything that's happened over the last four thousand years," Ivy said quietly. "I really don't think the office technology equivalent to the Model-T is going to come anywhere close to defeating you."

His blue eyes were startled. "Thank you for that vote of confidence. I hope it does not prove misplaced."

Legolas spared the printing faxes a final glance before shoving the cell phone back into his pocket. "I've been a poor host so far. Will you allow me to remedy this by taking you out to supper this evening?"

"You don't want to stay in, order room service, and baby-sit the faxes?"

Legolas shook his head. "You should see a bit of the city while we are here, and I do not enjoy dining in hotel restaurants. Too often I have found myself seated beside a businessman who was sacking the businessman eating with him. There are much better meals to be had, and we also need to do a bit of shopping."

"Shopping?" Ivy echoed, mystified.

"We both need warm clothing and proper coats, do we not?"

"Yes, but I can't afford New York prices."

"You can, but let's not argue it. Dinner and shopping will be my gift to you, the newest Queen's Daughter. Please--" Legolas insisted as Ivy hesitated. "Consider it part of my apology for welcoming you so badly this morning."

"You don't need to apologize, I get that you're under a lot of pressure."

"That is no excuse." His blue eyes held both storm and sorrow.

Ivy sighed. "I'm not going to win this argument, am I?"

"No," the Elf said pleasantly enough. "I shall take my bath, and then we shall go out. Underground shopping is available only a few blocks away in the Catacombs, and the Rolls is waiting."

With that, Legolas left the room. Biting her lip, Ivy waited a few seconds until she was certain he was safe in his turbo-filled tub before heading down the hall to her own bedroom. Setting her Four Seasons bear on one of the pillows, she decided he looked very small and lost in the huge bed. _Rather how I've felt all day._

Digging through her meager supply of clothing, Ivy wished she had something nicer to wear than an oversized sweatshirt and jeans. _But I'm no beauty, and this is New York. Gorgeous models abound on every street corner, so who am I trying to kid? I do need to get some warmer clothes, and Legolas would probably be seriously insulted or something if don't let him buy me stuff._

Part of her was jumping up and down and squealing in excitement at the thought of having supper with him. Another part of her wanted nothing more than to curl up on the bed and think about all the things the very strange day had brought her way. _Aragorn was an ancestor of mine. I'm immortal, and I get to hang out with the Elves. With Haldir and Legolas and...who else?_

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she pawed through her purse. _Don't think about that right now. If you do, you'll become a blithering idiot and want to call Mom and talk about everything. You can't. Not right now. Legolas won't be in that bathtub forever, and something tells me the hungrier he gets, the grumpier he gets. I don't want a repeat of ultra-snarky warrior Elf, so..._

Closing her eyes, she took several deep breaths. _He'll knock on the door in only a few minutes and expect me to be ready. I'll go downstairs with him and we'll climb back into that Phantom Rolls Royce and go to dinner. It's just dinner and shopping, nothing spectacular. _

_NOTHING SPECTACULAR?!_ part of her screeched. _WHAT PLANET ARE YOU FROM?_

She pushed down that part of her. _I've been with Legolas all day, what's a couple more hours? He's just an Elf._

_JUST AN—_

_Just. An. Elf,_ she repeated to herself. _I'm going to wash my face and run a brush through my hair. There's no time for anything more, and even if there were, it wouldn't help. He says I'm Queen's Daughter, and that seems to be enough for him. So I'm going to remember my manners and try not to screw this up._


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

Ivy slipped through the door leading into the Catacombs only to stop dead at the alarming wall of noise and people passing before her. _Maybe it wasn't such a hot idea to go shopping at Rockefeller Center a few days before Christmas?_

Coming up beside her, Legolas captured her hand and shouted, "Don't let go! Have you money for a taxi back to the hotel if we get separated?"

"Yes!" she shouted back and held on tight to Legolas' hand as he pulled her into the moving crowd. A harried-looking woman yanked the headphones from her son's head and yelled something at him. Startled, the teenager dropped his iPod and sent it spinning at Ivy's feet.

The device and Ivy were instantly set upon by at least five people – none of whom was the teenaged owner. All she could see before being shoved out of the way was a blur of hostile, determined faces. Stumbling backward, she felt her hand slip out of Legolas'. Another hard shove, this one downward, and Ivy was headed for the floor.

Her knees buckled, but never struck the tile. Someone grabbed her around the middle, and she was snatched tight against a hard body only to be half-dragged and half-carried with the tide of people. A wave of long blonde hair caressed her face, which easily calmed her rising panic as she realized who had hold of her.

"I've got you," she felt more than heard her protector say as she found her feet. She clutched Legolas' arms, still wrapped about her waist, to walk in lockstep with him. Somehow, she found herself guided out of the crowd and through the entrance to J.Crew. The roar of the crowd receded as the doors closed. Moving off of the main path, Legolas released her.

Whirling, she nearly hugged him in gratitude. "I didn't think I'd need to be rescued so quickly, but thank you. I didn't know so many people could fit into one space."

"The mob presses and scrabbles like orcs." Glancing about as Ivy rearranged her clothes and smoothed her tangled hair, he murmured, "It seems safer inside."

"For the moment. I think the men's department is over there."

Legolas led the way through a dizzying array of displays, to where the sweaters and jeans began. A slender clerk with a spiked crew-cut and delicate goatee darted forward to accost the Elf the moment Legolas crossed some invisible threshold.

"Good evening, I'm Dante. I'd love to help you tonight, so what would you like to see first?"

Noting Dante's perfect silk shirt and tie, Ivy hung back the watch the gushing and the fawning. _Can he be any more stereotypical in his sexual orientation?_

"I require jeans, sweaters and a pair of good, waterproof boots," said Legolas.

"Let's start with the denim, shall we? Do you prefer slim fit, straight leg, boot-cut, or relaxed? And what's your size, darling?"

Circling the two males, Ivy watched Legolas draw himself up to his full height and narrow his gaze - no doubt at being called darling. "I've no idea."

Rocking back on his heels, Dante considered. "Well, let's see. With that long waist, I'd say you're a perfect thirty. Let me snag the measuring tape and we'll see what your inseam is, shall we?"

The tape was snagged, and Dante went down on his knees before the Elf. Shoving Legolas' sweater out of the way, Dante encircled the Elf's waist with the tape.

Ivy swore she heard Legolas growl and tried to intercept the explosion she sensed was coming. "Dante, shouldn't you let Lee measure his own--"

"I was right, you're a perfect thirty-two!" Still on his knees, Dante stared in adoration up at his customer.

"We heard you think he was a perfect thirty not a minute ago," Ivy persisted. "And you need to stop ignoring me."

The clerk ignored her. "You know, with your length of leg, broad shoulders and tight abs, I'd love to see you in some slims. Now, let's get that inseam, shall we?"

Ivy could only watch, horrified, as the clerk planted the end of his tape between Legolas' feet and then ran its length quickly up between the Elf's legs. From her view, it looked as if Dante dared to cup Legolas' crotch.

The next instant, the Elf grabbed the clerk by the jaw and was lifting him to his feet. Dropping the measuring tape, Dante clawed at Legolas' fingers.

The Elf's other hand gripped Dante's throat as the clerk staggered. Lunging, Legolas shoved the man backward no few feet. "You will not touch me."

"What is your childhood issue?" Dante rasped, grabbing his throat. "I was only--" The clerk choked and coughed.

Blue eyes darkened and yes, that was definitely a growl, followed by a few words that might have been Scots Gaelic. To Ivy's ears, they certainly weren't Elvish.

"I have seen other men gelded for daring what you did."

"Gelded?" Dante smirked. "I'm sure we'd both have fun letting you try."

Legolas lunged forward again, only to have Ivy throw herself between him and the clerk.

"I think it might be better if you found someone else to help us," she told Dante, her arm muscles screaming as Legolas pushed against Ivy's hand on his chest. "One who won't mack on my boyfriend."

Dante rubbed his throat. "I didn't—"

"Yes, you did. Now, back the hell off, or do we need to talk to your manager?" Turning toward Legolas, she laid both hands against his chest. "Are you all right?"

The Elf's nostrils flared, and he glared at Dante over her head. _He'd be all flashing hooves and teeth right now if he were a stallion._ Rubbing circles on Legolas' chest and thinking calming thoughts, Ivy waited until his blue eyes cleared a little and acknowledged her.

"We don't need his help, Lee," she murmured. "All we need is a dressing room, and I'll bring a few things for you to try on. How does that sound?"

"Fine," came the lock-jawed answer.

"Fine," Dante croaked. "The dressing rooms are over there."

The clerk wandered off, still clutching his throat, while Legolas headed with all speed across the store.

"I hope they've got locks on the doors," Ivy muttered, trotting in Legolas' wake.

# #

The Elf took the room at the very end of the narrow aisle, where his back was to the wall and Ivy knew he'd be aware of anyone trying to sneak up on him. Slamming the door closed behind him, he glowered at Ivy over the top of it.

"This is not an auspicious beginning," he growled. "You know I wanted to kill him."

"Oh, Lee." Determined to lighten the mood in case someone was listening, Ivy summoned a pout. "That would have been so messy, and there'd be all these forms to fill out. We wouldn't get any dinner until midnight, and what would your father say?"

Ignoring the astonished look Legolas gave her, Ivy turned to greet the new clerk bustling down the narrow aisle toward them. Thankfully, this one was female.

"I've sent Dante away for the night," the new clerk began, breathless, "so he won't disturb you two again. Please allow me to apologize for his rudeness, and accept J.Crew's offer of fifty dollars off your bill this evening."

"I think a hundred would be better," Ivy said, still smiling.

"Erm..." The clerk glanced from Ivy to a still-scowling Legolas. "Um...all right."

"Thank you." Legolas accepted the woman's peace offering with as much good grace as he could muster through clenched teeth. "Could we return to the business at hand? I require a sampling of the jean styles you have available."

"Of course, sir. In what size?"

"Thirty-two waist," Ivy interjected, subtly planting her claim. "Let's start with a thirty-five length and go from there."

"Of course. What color would you prefer?"

"Black and dark blue," Legolas inserted.

The clerk went to do their bidding, while Ivy hung back and laid her fingers over Legolas' white-knuckled ones atop the door.

"I'll intercept her before she comes back and send her off for some sweaters. Do you want patterns or solids?"

"Solids. Please."

She patted his hand. "I'll be right back."

"Ivy." He caught hold of her wrist. "I must thank you. The last time someone stepped between a threat and me...the last someone was Aragorn. On the plains of Rohan. When Eomer—"

"When he threatened Gimli?" she asked softly.

"Yes." Preoccupied, he stroked the delicate bones beneath his fingers. "Your obstruction is all the more amazing, considering my anger. _I had forgotten how fragile a female can be. The last Queen's Daughter I touched was far from fragile. _"You have my gratitude."

"Thanks for letting me help. That man had no right to touch you that way." Her green eyes flashed as her grip on him tightened. "Nobody's getting a second shot at you while I'm around." She stalked off, all feminine outrage and determination.

Moments later, Legolas found himself the recipient of what seemed a very tall stack of jean and sweater samples. A few minutes after that, and the Elf was feeling nothing but overheated and frustrated as he tried on garment after garment.

"I have no idea what to purchase," he told Ivy, who was leaning with her back against the dressing-room door after having chased off the anxious, inquisitive clerk for the third time. "What is considered fashionable?"

"You're asking me, an artist who lives in jeans and sweats? I'd go with what you think looks and feels good."

"I am an ill judge of what looks good," Legolas insisted. "The task is not made easier by standing in a clothing stall and staring into a distorted mirror. Life was easier when my wardrobe consisted of a tunic and leggings."

"You could come out here, or at least open the door and let me have a look."

Legolas deliberated but a moment. "All right."

Ivy whirled and backed away as he pushed open the door. Stepping warily into the aisle, Legolas watched the play of emotions over the girl's face. First came disbelief - no doubt because he was letting her 'have a look' as she had put it. Ivy then raked him from head to toes with her gaze, only to settle on an intense visual inspection of his legs that would have had Legolas blushing as a young Elf.

"Well?" He demanded.

"Are those the slim-fitting ones?"

"Yes."

"They look good. You look good. Are they comfy?"

"Very." Reaching back into the dressing room, he snagged a package of black briefs and tossed it atop the rejected clothing stacked just outside the door. She followed the gesture as he hoped she might - anything to get those intent green eyes off of him.

The briefs did not hold her attention any more than they would have held the attention of the inquisitive ravens he'd left behind in Alaska.

Her gaze swiveled back to his, and she arched an eyebrow. "You go commando?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Um..." She seemed unable or unwilling to explain. "I think the jeans you're wearing look great. You might want to get a few of the boot cut ones, too. Because you wear boots."

"Ivy, you are staring at me."

"I thought you wanted me to look at you." She glanced away. "Are we done with the jeans thing?"

"Yes."

"Do you want help with the sweaters?"

"No."

"Great. I'll get rid of the rejects while you change clothes." Scooping up the discarded items, Ivy headed down the narrow corridor. "Meet you at the register."

Watching her go, Legolas couldn't help but feel he'd missed something. Retreating back into the dressing room, he exchanged the new jeans for his old pair before pulling out his cell phone and calling Haldir.

"Yes, Legolas?"

"What does it mean if one goes commando?" the Elf demanded.

"You know as well as I what it means - not washing and generally being dirty, as the Royal Marine Commandos—"

"No. What does it mean to an American?"

"To them, a commando is a soldier trained to make dangerous raids," the marchwarden dutifully relayed. "How are you and Ivy getting on?"

"We are shopping for clothes, and she has confused me. What has a commando to do with male underwear?"

There was silence in Scotland. The next moment, Haldir burst out laughing.

"Oh, sweet Elbereth," the marchwarden wheezed. "What have you and Ivy been discussing? _That_ commando means regimental."

"What?"

"You can't have forgotten the first Commando units we trained in Inverness during the last war? Regimental is what we Scots called the proper state of not wearing anything beneath our kilts. _That_ is what 'going commando' means to an American."

"I see. Thank you, Haldir. Good-night."

"Hang about," Haldir protested. "You must tell how this subject came up between you and Queen's Daughter."

"No, I mustn't. And I won't. Good-night, Haldir."

"Killjoy."

Snapping closed the phone, Legolas sat and stared at the baseboard_. How did Ivy ascertain I am regimental in my dress? Has she been watching my crotch since we met, or only since I invited her scrutiny moments ago? Did she like what she saw?_

_I don't want to know,_ Legolas finally decided, quickly gathering his stack of clothing for purchase. _In fact, I think I'm going to forget she mentioned the matter at all._


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

Having had quite enough of the men's department, Legolas headed with all speed towards its borders, only to have Ivy wheel away from him when they were just shy of leaving.

"Wait a moment." Capturing his arm, she dragged him back to a haughty-looking male mannequin adorned in a long black-leather trench coat. "You have to try that on."

"Why?"

"Because it's so Lee Greenwood, that's why."

"I think not." Grabbing Ivy's hand, Legolas tugged her away. "We must get you some warm clothing. And shoestrings."

"I need shoestrings? Why do I need shoestrings?"

"The laird gives the children of the village a token present every Winterfest. Haldir suggested we offer them sets of ornamented shoestrings this year."

"That's nice, but that leather coat is nicer. You said Lee's is the face you present publicly?"

"Yes."

"Then you'll need a visible public image. Trust me when I say Lee needs a coat like that."

"Why?"

"Because nothing says 'I'm rich and dangerous, so screw with me at your peril' like a black-leather coat."

Legolas glanced back at the coat on display. "How do you know this?"

"Feminine reactions and artistic prerogative." Glancing about, Ivy spied a rack full of the same coats against a nearby wall. "Just try one on, okay? You won't even need to get another dressing room to do it."

Sliding a sample off its hanger, Ivy held it out with what she hoped was a suitably pleading expression.

"Please, Lee?" She shook the garment. "This thing's heavy. My arms are getting tired."

One long-suffering sigh later, and Legolas was shrugging into the coat. Ivy's fingers itched to cinch the belt at his waist, but she settled for walking around him instead. _It seems the safer option._

"Well?" He all but looked down his nose at her, and refused to turn toward the mirror.

She fidgeted. "The black contrasts really well with your hair and complexion, but I'm not sure..."

"Ivy, what did I tell you on the plane?" It came out more gently than she expected, given look of fire in his eye.

"You said I should always speak my mind. Okay, fine. You look like the elegant, spoiled son of a wealthy man until I hit your eyes and then it's a case of watch out, pow! I guess it's hard to hide thousands of years of experience."

He sighed. "Hide it, I must. If you think this coat will help--"

"It will as long as they don't look into your eyes. It's for _Lee_, remember?"

The storm in the blue eyes dissipated as if it had never been, and the Elf smiled so that Ivy finally got a good look at his dimples. "You must have a coat like this as well."

"I don't think so." She backed away.

He stalked her, and the coat billowed around his legs. "Does Ivy MacLeod not also need a visual image? Is she not also beginning a new life?"

Ivy shook her head. "Bohemian artists don't need public images. My paint smudges speak for themselves."

"You are Queen's Daughter."

"What has that to--"Ivy snapped her mouth closed as a mother and daughter wandered by in their quest for holiday gifts for Dad or Uncle Charlie. Waiting until the women were no longer in earshot, Ivy whispered, "Maybe we should talk about this later? In private?"

"Of course." He shrugged out of the leather beauty. "But you are still getting a coat like this."

"Fine. I'll get a coat if you do." _Even if I can't afford it,_ she thought. _Capitulation's a lot easier than arguing with him._

It also made Legolas keep smiling - something Ivy decided was well worth losing the fight if it meant she got to keep seeing his adorable dimples. Folding the coat across his arm, Legolas invaded the women's department next door and sought a clerk.

"Have you a leather coat like this for the lady accompanying me?" he demanded.

_Need to work on that syntax, Lee,_ Ivy decided. _You sound like Heathcliff meets Mirkwood._

"I believe so, sir," said the clerk.

"My companion also requires indoor clothing suitable to an old home with no central heating, and outdoor clothing suitable to sub-zero temperatures."

"Jeans and heavy sweaters will be fine," Ivy inserted in her own self-defense.

"She will also need fleece-lined boots and gloves," Legolas persisted.

The clerk arched an eyebrow. "A stylish as a leather coat is, I'm afraid it won't keep her warm."

"Of course it won't. That is why you will also bring her a heavy coat suitable to the climate I have just described."

"Yes, sir." The clerk nearly bowed to the Elf's superior attitude.

_And so another female learns it's easier to comply with His Highness's orders than argue,_ thought Ivy.

"Thank you. Where are your dressing rooms?"

"Over there."

Legolas whirled toward Ivy so fast, she jumped. "What size do you wear, and what colors do you prefer?"

She told the clerk, only to find herself being hustled by the Elf toward the small, curtained rooms. "Geez, but you learn fast."

Legolas' smile was angelic in the extreme as he chose a dressing room for her. "Clothes off now. Would you like me to make a selection of lingerie for you as well?"

"No." She glowered at him as the clerk returned with the first stack of clothing samples. "I know how to try stuff on all by myself, too, so why don't you go look for some shoestrings?"

He hesitated, all sincere blue eyes and solicitation while the clerk watched and listened. "If you're certain you can manage alone, Ivy?"

"I'll be fine, Lee." She matched his saccharine tone, knowing it was all a payback for her overly solicitous act back in the men's department. "Shall I ring your cell when I'm ready?"

"If you wish."

"I wish." She locked the door and snatched up the first pair of jeans. "See you later."

# #

She dared not exit the dressing room with anything less than what the Elf thought she needed. _If I come up short, I bet he'll just send me back in here._

Most of an hour later, she had a huge collection of jeans and thick sweaters, as well as a fine pair of fur-lined boots. She also had another, very heavy coat that the clerk had brought, saying, "Mr. Greenwood asked me to send this in."

Ivy herself requested wool socks and a heavy sweatsuit, sensing the flannel pajamas she'd brought wouldn't intimidate the Highland cold. The clerk carried it all away, presumably to the cash register where Ivy would try to keep from physically cringing as she handed over her debit card. _I'm probably spending the equivalent of two payments on my student loan._

Shrugging into her old clothes, Ivy realized she didn't have the number to Legolas' cell phone. _That's great. We've got reservations for dinner, and how am I supposed to find him in a store this size?_

As it happened, the Elf was waiting, slouched in a chair just outside the dressing rooms when Ivy exited.

"All done?"

"I think so, but I've no idea what it's going to cost." Pushing back an annoying strand of hair, she tied back the entire unruly mess with the bit of twine she'd found earlier on the dressing room floor. "Halden made a deposit to my account, but after that leather coat's added in--"

"Consider all your purchases my Winterfest gift to you."

"That's very generous, but I can't possibly--"

Blue eyes narrowed, and the Elf slowly rose to his feet, looking every bit as regal and dangerous as he'd been in Tolkien's books. Ivy took a step back.

"You can, and you will," he all but growled. "I am your host in Lairg, and I will see to your comfort."

"Um...okay." _Dominant much?_ she wondered._ Maybe it's time for a change of subject._ "Did you get the shoestrings?"

"I did."

Leading the way to the counter, Legolas produced Lee Greenwood III's credit card, and Ivy tried not to gasp at the sum he signed off on. Some sound must have escaped despite her best efforts, as the Elf cast a slanting glance her way and leaned closer.

"Image is all, remember? It's not as if we cannot afford it," he muttered for Ivy's ears only. Addressing the clerk, he continued. "Please have all of the packages delivered this evening to my suite at the Four Seasons."

"Of course, Mr. Greenwood."

"All except this." Retrieving Ivy's new heavy winter coat, he said, "You may want to wear this and have your old jacket sent to the hotel."

"Good idea." Ivy shrugged out of the coat.

The clerk checked Legolas' passport against the signature on her form. "Forgive me if I ask, but are you Halden Greenwood's son?"

"I am."

"I was so sorry to hear of your father's ill-health. Thank you for letting us be of service to you this evening."

"Thank you...Gina." A quick glance at the clerk's tag and he was all but purring her name. Reaching into his pocket, Legolas handed the clerk a folded bill. "This is for you, in thanks for your kindness tonight."

"Oh, but I can't--"

"I'm sure you can. Happy holidays."

The flustered woman melted at Legolas' reassuring tone and radiant smile. "Thank you so much, Mr. Greenwood. A happy holiday to you, as well."

"Did you just tip her a hundred dollars?" Ivy squeaked as they left.

"I did. She was kind to both of us, and she know of my father. I wished to reward her. I also wished to ensure our purchases will arrive before we depart in the morning." Capturing Ivy's hand, Legolas led her back into the crush outside the store. "Hang on tight, and don't let go."

# #

Puccini's Italian Restaurant was very Renaissance, very dark, and very warm after the cold, brittle trek across the street from Rockefeller Center.

_How romantic, it's lit only by candlelight, _thought Ivy, glancing around the Tuscany marble and custom-tiled entrance. _Too bad we're not on a date._

Date or not, Legolas still hadn't let go her hand, and Ivy found herself pressed up tight against his side as they moved through the waiting crowd. _Almost like a real couple._ She basked in the fantasy.

Magical words were spoken - words like 'reservation' and 'Greenwood' to conjure a table where Ivy suspected there wasn't a good one available within six months for mere Mortals. The maitre'd actually bowed to Legolas before leading the way to a private alcove deep inside the restaurant, and Ivy thought the gesture might have put the Elf in a good mood for the rest of their visit in New York.

A miniature statue of Michelangelo's David graced a recessed nook inside the alcove, and a bottle of fine wine - complimentary, Ivy suspected - was already waiting for them.

"From the written warning posted outside and the formal atmosphere inside, I thought they'd give you a tie and make you put it on before letting us back here," she whispered over her menu once they were seated.

"You don't ask this Greenwood to dress if you want his custom a second time," Legolas murmured, studying the fare. "Can you read Italian?"

"Only on tubes of Maimeri."

He glanced up from his menu. "I beg your pardon?"

"Sorry. It's a very good and fairly expensive brand of artist's oil paint."

"Ah. Then you will allow me to order for you. Would you like to try the wine?"

Legolas pushed one of the goblets toward Ivy that the maitre'd had poured out for them moments before. The last wine she'd tried - a bottle shared with her mother and Reuben to celebrate their marriage - had tasted like vinegar. Ivy had gasped and made a face, and her mother had laughed at her daughter's naivety. Remembering that embarrassment, Ivy took a cautious sip.

"This is good." Surprised, she drank more deeply. "It tastes like grape juice."

"I'm glad you like it."

The waiter arrived to take their order. Leaning back in the chair, Ivy was contented to let Legolas order for her. A few minutes later, she was feeling comfortably warm and shrugging out of her new coat as the waiter returned with breadsticks and salad.

Savoring her new sense of relaxation, Ivy smiled sweetly at the Elf. "Why did I ever think you were scary?"

"I can't imagine. But I think you may have had enough wine." Legolas switched out Ivy's mostly empty wine glass for a tumbler of water. "Why don't you have some salad while we wait?"

"You're not scary." She searched beside her plate and scowled at the tablecloth. "Where's my fork?"

"Here it is," said Legolas. "Forgive me, Ivy. I did not realize--"

She stabbed at the unruly lettuce on her plate. "This is a great place to eat. Don't you think it's a great place to eat? My salad is really good, but I feel so...so..." A great yawn took her. "I'm so sleepy."

"Yes, I see that."

She peered across the table. "Where'd my wine go?"

"It's all gone, I'm afraid."

A few minutes later, and Ivy was literally falling asleep over her meal. Calling for a take-out box, the check, and a whole cheesecake for Haldir, Legolas urged Ivy to her feet and guided her through the restaurant. He wondered if she'd remember the trip back to the hotel, and found himself half-amused and half-appalled at the tipsy affection he had created.

Burrowing beneath Legolas' arm, Ivy snuggled closer to him in the back seat of the Rolls. Even as the Elf struggled to set aside the plastic bags containing their scarcely touched meals, Ivy wrapped herself around him and murmured, "You smell good. Like garlic and spaghetti."

Resting his cheek against the top of her head and having no choice but to wrap his arms around the clinging girl, Legolas found himself smiling. "Now, there's a compliment I never would have heard from your grandmother."

# #

Awaking some hours later with a headache and gnawing hunger, Ivy threw back the covers only to discover someone had put her to bed fully clothed, except for her boots. She blushed to remember slapping away Legolas' hands and protesting loudly when he had tried undressing her for bed.

_I hope I didn't wake Alastair with my screeching,_ she thought, _or upset Legolas with my...oh, grief, was I drunk?_

She vaguely remembered Legolas laughing at her after she had fallen into the bed, cuddled her pillow, and crooned happily to her little stuffed Beanie bear. Burying her face in her hands, Ivy knew that hiding in her room the next morning and dying of humiliation wasn't an option._ Neither one of us had anything to eat all day yesterday, and Legolas is the one who gave me the wine, so he's just going to have to understand. _

_Could I get something to eat now?_

Sneaking out of her room, she found the suite dark and quiet. Skulking down the hall and into the living room, she sought the wet bar with its small refrigerator, as she vaguely remembered Legolas putting their leftovers in there, along with the cheesecake they'd bought to take back to Haldir in Scotland.

Finishing her food, Ivy decided a glass of water and a Styrofoam box of cold parmigiana was a blessed feast at two in the morning. Going back to her room, she saw light spilling from beneath the library door and couldn't resist laying her ear against the door.

"Legolas?" she heard a tinny voice say from within. "Are you there?"

Peering cautiously inside, she saw the Elf sprawled on his back before the couch. Fully dressed, he lay with the back of his head braced against the front of the couch. While the Elf's eyes were open, he was staring glassily at nothing.

_He looks dead,_ Ivy thought, coming further into the room. Legolas' right hand held the phone receiver while his other hand rested on a thick stack of papers on the floor beside him.

"Legolas! Wake up!" ordered the receiver.

Inching closer, Ivy debated the wisdom of attempting to remove the phone from the grip of a sleeping Elven warrior. Holding her breath, she ran the tip of her finger over the palm of Legolas' half-open hand. His fingers twitched in muscle reaction, and the phone fell. Catching it before it struck the Elf, Ivy eased it completely from his grasp.

"Haldir?" she whispered, tiptoeing away.

"Ivy, is that you? Where is Legolas?"

"He's asleep. So Elves really do sleep with their eyes open? That looks really creepy."

"So we've been told by Mortals throughout the ages," came the dry reply. "Is the fax machine still receiving?"

She peered at the machine. "No, I think it needs more paper." She went looking and filled the tray. "Are you the one to thank for the chocolate and the Beanie Babies?"

"Is that what the hotel gave you? I did happen to mention Lee had a teenager traveling with him."

"Haldir, I'm twenty-four."

"To us, you are still a teenager. How are you enjoying your night in New York?"

She slumped back in the comfy desk chair. "I like it. The beds are big enough to swim in, and the bathroom is a religious experience. Legolas seems happy enough too, but Alastair thinks we should have stayed at the Ritz."

"So he told me before leaving Lairg. The Four Seasons is known for its wonderful beds, and I felt Legolas' comfort on this trip was of more concern than pleasing Alastair."

"But Legolas isn't in a bed, he's sprawled on the library floor. He didn't even bother pulling out the couch-bed."

Haldir said something biting in Elvish.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said that I buy him books and buy him books, but all he does is eat the covers. What am I to do with him?"

"Um, you know him better than I do, I'm sure you'll think of something." She stared at the brilliant nightline of New York visible beyond the window. "This city never sleeps, does it? And forgive me for being nosy, but what does a suite like this cost?"

"Five thousand dollars a night, give or take a few hundred."

Ivy choked, and Haldir continued. "Yes, I know The Four Seasons has stratospheric prices, but we are not in this life to suffer. Greenwood can afford it, and it is all tax deductible, so enjoy the splendor. Do you know your hotel's designer also designed the glass pyramids at the Louvre?"

"Do you mean I.M Pei?" Ivy guessed.

"I knew an artist such as yourself would know him."

Ivy wrinkled her nose. _I hate to tell you, Haldir, but the Louvre entrance looked better before Pei messed with it._ "He's very into modern, isn't he?"

Haldir laughed. "I too think the pyramids look out of place at the Louvre. Any road, I know that our Legolas is much stressed with returning to a world that has much changed while he's been away. He required a flawless, stress-free stay in a serene atmosphere, and that is why you are not at the Mandarin Oriental or the Ritz. The Four Seasons' décor may be more ostentatious, but the hotel prides itself on pampering its guests, and both of you need that. Is the fax in working order again?"

She sat up and removed the new-arrived pages from the machine. "It's stopped printing and still has lots of paper. Is Legolas supposed to review all of this before the meeting?"

"As much as is possible. There are also documents you'll need to look at upon your arrival."

"Could you fax some of mine too, and I'll read them on the plane?"

"Of course. Do let me clarify any confusion when you get here. If it's all too much to think about, you can designate another board member to vote for you. But yes, I'll send along some things and we'll see how you do."

"Okay, that's a plan." She yawned. "It's great talking to you again, Haldir, but I think I'd better go back to bed now."

"Of course. Would you mind waking Legolas before you go? We still have some things to discuss."

"How do I wake him without his attacking me?"

"Attack you?" For a moment, Haldir was speechless. "Has he attacked someone _already_?"

"Not really. It's just that there was this Dante guy - a salesclerk - who tried to come onto Legolas. There was no blood. I just...I don't think it's a great idea to walk over there and shake him."

"No, that wouldn't do," Haldir said thoughtfully. Ivy wondered if the marchwarden was making a note to ask Legolas about the Dante incident. "Is there a pillow close by?"

"There's a few on the couch."

"I recommend you take one, stand well away, and throw your pillow at him."

"Okay. I have to put down the phone."

"Of course."

She did as Haldir instructed. Leaping to his feet, Legolas spun in a circle and once again reached for long-knives that weren't there. Coming back around to face her, he blinked at Ivy, lowered his hands, and glanced around the room as if to satisfy himself no orcs were hiding behind the furniture.

"Ivy. What are you doing out of bed?"

"I got hungry and then found you asleep. Haldir said to wake you." She held out the phone.

"Hannad," he murmured. Taking the phone, the Elf picked up the sheaf of papers at his feet, only to wander over to the fax machine and stack them atop the new arrivals. "My apologies, Haldir. Where were we?"

Ivy had the feeling she'd already been forgotten. Slipping out of the library, she closed the door quietly behind her.

_How long has it been since he's had a good sleep?_ she wondered. _And what's so daunting in Scotland that he and Haldir have to prepare for it all night long?_


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Ivy's day began abruptly when bright sunlight burst against her eyelids, and a buzzing brought her upright in bed. Shielding her eyes from a sudden light, she discovered Legolas standing at the foot of her bed with the window curtains' remote control in hand. Bags from J.Crew were stacked beside her on the bed - no doubt her share of the goodies delivered after their night of shopping before.

Legolas' long hair was wet and slicked back, and Ivy was startled to realize the Elf was dressed only in one of the thick terrycloth bath-robes furnished by the hotel. Tossing the remote onto the bed, he smiled - more like smirked - at her.

"Aur vaer," he greeted her.

"You did that on purpose," she accused, knowing she sounded as grumpy as she felt. Snatching up the remote, she punched random buttons until she found the one that made the curtains shut out a bit of the light.

"Did what on purpose?"

"Woke me up like that. Because I threw a pillow at you."

"I would never do that." The mischievous look in his blue eyes told another story. "I merely wished to inform you it is seven o'clock and time for Queen's Daughter to be awake. The plane is scheduled to leave at nine."

"Seven o'clock here is four in San Francisco," she grumped.

"I share your pain, as in Alaska it is only three in the morning. You have time for a shower and breakfast before we leave." With that, Legolas was gone.

Twenty minutes later saw Ivy showered and dressed and putting her now-overstuffed bag near the living room door. Alastair grumbled a good morning through his bacon and eggs as Ivy eyed the offerings on the breakfast trolley.

Legolas stood at the window with his back to her, the cell phone once more glued to his ear. Holding a comb in his other hand, he tried yanking it through his hair. The long, tangled strands fought him, and Legolas let loose with what Ivy thought sounded like a stream of Dwarven curses - it was either that, or the garbled noise of rocks being chewed.

Going to the Elf, she dared to take the comb from him. "Don't hurt yourself. Let me help."

That earned her a harsh glower, but Ivy didn't think she was in any real danger. _He's more angry at his hair than at me. If I'm wrong, he'll just have to punish me by not letting me have any breakfast. _

Unable to bear the thought of the Elf's ripping out any more lovely golden strands, Ivy went to her purse. She returned to Legolas' side as he concluded his latest call to Haldir.

Rubbing the palms of her hands together, she ordered, "Turn around."

"What is that?" He indicated the clear, thick substance on her hands, and did not turn around.

"I call it hair-snot. It's made to prevent frizz, but I think it might detangle your hair the way it does mine."

He stared at her so intently that Ivy very nearly squirmed.

"Um...would you like to break with tradition? Trust me just this once, and turn around?"

Legolas sighed deeply before turning around. Very slowly. "If this does not work, I will wash it out."

"You do that." _Regal prince of Mirkwood much?_ she thought.

Quickly gathering the recalcitrant Elf's hair before he changed his mind, Ivy discovered it was much heavier than it looked. Part of her was doing no little bit of delighted squealing. _I'm touching his hair - LEGOLAS' hair. Oh, wow, this is too cool!_ The more adult part of her was frantically cautioning, _Don't squee out loud and blow it, m'kay?_

Briskly rubbing the thick gel through Legolas' hair, Ivy said a little prayer to whatever angels were listening and held her breath before gingerly applying the comb. _I hope this works on him the way it does on me, and doesn't leave a greasy mess._

She let out her breath as the comb glided easily through the gold. A few tugs were inevitable, but they were minor and easily smoothed.

"All done," she announced, reluctantly handing back the comb as the Elf whirled. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"It was actually enjoyable." He sounded amazed as he stared at the comb, as if it were responsible all by itself for his gentler grooming. "As a child, I despised having my hair detangled. It was unbelievably painful and something to be avoided for as long as possible, which only made matters worse as you might imagine. Mithrandir had to bribe me to sit still."

_Mithrandir?_ Ivy puzzled. _Why was Gandalf combing Legolas' hair when he was a child?_

"Le hannon, Ivy." He sounded sincere. "The world has indeed changed if there are inventions in it such as...hair snot." Placing a hand on her shoulder, he guided her toward the table. "I am keeping you from your breakfast, and you must eat."

"Are you eating too?"

"I have had tea. It is all I require." Out came the cell phone again, and Legolas wandered back across the room.

Ivy frowned, first at the Elf and then at Alastair who had watched the entire exchange with great interest and was eating enough scrambled eggs and bacon for both him and Legolas.

"You're eating all that?" Ivy asked.

"'Tis a long flight, lassie."

Selecting a croissant and some fruit, Ivy poured a cup of coffee and looked over at Legolas. "He can't live on tea alone."

"Himself's stomach's his own concern. Sit with me and eat your breakfast. We've the Rolls waitin' to take us to the plane. Were it a weekday, we'd have the helicopter."

"A helicopter?" That got her attention. "Why?"

"To avoid the morning traffic, of course. We've Lairg to reach, and it's best we be off sooner than later so the laird's not kept waiting."

Nodding her agreement, Ivy tucked into her breakfast.

# #

The Learjet had scarcely finished its climb from JFK International Airport in the bright morning light and leveled off before Legolas unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up. Thumping down his two-inch stack of papers on the table before Ivy, he slipped into chair opposite her.

_I guess he doesn't feel the need to sit with his back to the bulkhead any more,_ she thought.

Ivy was grateful for the more relaxed mood between them, but anxiety washed over her when Legolas skimmed off the top of his stack and set the papers before her.

"Haldir indicated these are for you." Reaching for a nearby drawer, the Elf retrieved two writing pads and passed one to Ivy. A brief search yielded one pen and no others. "Perhaps Alastair has one you might borrow?"

"That's okay, I have my own."

"Very well. Haldir has sent you a brief history of Ithilien, our council, and the Queen's Daughters. I must concentrate my own dossier and cannot stop to answer any questions you may have. Haldir will address them after we arrive."

Picking up the first sheet, the Elf was as good as his word. Ivy could feel the change in his mood, as well as the 'do not disturb' vibe wrapped around him. Regardless Legolas' distance, Ivy felt encouraged he had taken the time to explain the reasons for it to her.

_Maybe I should follow his example and concentrate on my own homework? _she thought. _No doubt Haldir will give me a test._

Ithilien's faxed history came from a tired, dog-eared copy, complete with the occasional floating letter. _Elves are great typists, I take it? _Ivy thought. _I'd bet my next art commission that every Queen's Daughter has been given this since...um, when were typewriters invented? _

It was dry going. The Queen's Daughter stuff consisted of only a list of names, complete with birthdates and death dates. Beyond seeing her mother and grandmother's names listed, it meant nothing to Ivy. The board history told her it had been around a long time, they had planned to do things and did them for centuries. There was nothing personal or even slightly interesting in the notes.

_Maybe that's so, if the notes are lost, no one will be able to tell they were written by real Elves?_

Bored, Ivy leafed through the remaining pages to see if they became more appealing. They didn't.

_Haldir had to pen this stuff,_ she thought,_ because they're nothing like the histories I imagine Lord Elrond would have written before he left Middle-earth. I wish I could have seen them. Not that I could have read them, but still._

She doodled on the pad and considered the list of Queen's Daughters. Most had died before the age of forty. _Did Legolas know all of them? _Ivy wondered._ How did they die? Were all of them mad? Will I go crazy and die too? We can't speak of Arwen - what else aren't they telling me, and why?_

Her doodles became rough sketches of Legolas' hand moving across the writing pad opposite her. He was using a fountain pen, she noted. Some vintage thing that might have come off of some lawyer's desk. Or maybe Sherlock Holmes'. It was old, anyway.

_Did Legolas read the Sherlock Holmes stories when they were new? Or see Shakespeare's plays the first time they were put on? Did he lose friends to the Black Plague, or hide out in Scotland until it was over? He's lived over six thousand years, but no Queen's Daughter's made it past a hundred._

_Tolkien said the Mortal mind couldn't handle immortality,_ she remembered. _So did some Queen's Daughters commit suicide rather than face living forever? Is that why they're not around? _

She eyed the golden head bowed over its work. _Great time to stop talking to me, Legolas. Did those who came before me go mad like Rochester's wife in __Jane Eyre__ and have to be locked away? Is there an asylum somewhere up in the Highlands where insane QDs are kept?_

Legolas was scrawling notes in the margins of his faxes. Elvish notes, in a spiky handwriting that was lovely, even upside-down. Leaning back from the table, Ivy continued sketching bits of him. She even got a partial profile when he turned his head to consult his previous notes. He seemed to have forgotten her presence, which Ivy thought miraculous given the tension between them only the day before.

The morning passed until hunger inspired Ivy to prowl the lunch hamper the Four Seasons had prepared for them. Knocking on the cockpit's door, she slipped inside to give Alastair his choice of sandwich and treats before returning to the table and offering the same to Legolas.

The Elf murmured his thanks, but took only an apple. Setting it aside, he ignored the rest and went back to reading.

"You need to eat something," Ivy urged, unwrapping her chicken salad sandwich.

"I'll eat after the meeting." He didn't even looked up.

A few minutes later, Legolas' pen failed and he shook it. When that didn't work, he unscrewed the nib and examined the bladder inside.

"It's empty," he growled.

"Take mine." She pushed the Pilot G2 across the table, careful not to smear it with residue from her potato chips.

Legolas made a noise that Ivy assumed passed for thanks. He returned to taking notes, only to pause once more.

"I have others if it stopped working," Ivy reassured.

"It is working." He turned the pen around and around as though it were some alien being between his fingers. "This isn't ink. What is it?"

"A gel pen."

"A...gelatin pen?"

"More like jelly, though it's spelled g-e-l."

"I don't understand. Is this yet another thing the world invented while I was away?"

He sounded irritated. _Is he irritated because the inventions have left him behind, or does he get snarky whenever he doesn't understand something?_ Either way, from the annoyed look he was giving her, Ivy knew she'd better start talking.

She picked up his now-useless fountain pen and screwed the nib back on, hoping to distract him from glowering at her to watching her hands. _It's easier to talk when you're not looking at me like that._

"If I remember correctly, dip pens and fountain pens use inks that are dye solutions mixed with a water or shellac-based solvent. Water makes non-waterproof ink; shellac makes it waterproof. Ball-point ink uses paste ink mixed with a dye solution in an alcohol solvent. And gel-pen ink uses actual pigment suspended in a water-based gel."

Legolas was staring at her again. His blue eyes were intense, and he said not a word.

Ivy carefully set down the fountain pen, stared at the writing pad, and tried not to squirm. She knew she was blushing, she could feel her face heating up. "You asked."

"You have made a study of inks?"

Her temper flared at the skepticism in his tone. "Artists have to study all sorts of pigments. Some of us even like to play with gel pens because the colors are very bright, and they can be used on dark paper. They're clean and smooth and disposable. I'm sorry if I sound like a commercial, but you should try something before you sneer at it. Or at me."

"You are an artist?"

"I didn't kill myself with student loans and spend six years of my life getting a masters degree in tinker-toys, okay?"

Legolas' blue eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. "I have no idea what you have done with your life, Queen's Daughter. If you recall, I met you only yesterday. "

"If _you_ recall, you're the one who asked what kind of ink's in that pen."

"I didn't expect a dissertation."

"I didn't dissert, I answered your question. I know you don't believe me, but I'm not lying. If I don't know something, I'll say so, not make something up."

He glowered at her, and Ivy glowered right back, regardless part of her was horrified she was daring to challenge him and wanted to back down immediately. _I will not! _

Legolas was gripping the gel pen so hard, Ivy thought it might splinter in his grip. _It'd serve him right if he got ink all over his beautiful fingers. Betcha his elderberry soap wouldn't get that off._

"Ivy." The Elf exhaled hard. "I meant no offense, and I am under a great deal of pressure at the moment. I am being bombarded by a vast amount of new information and must do my best to absorb it over the next few hours. The world around me is filled with new things I have never before experienced."

"You _asked_ about the damn pen!" Ivy insisted. "Are you trying to blame me for everything new in your world now?"

"No. I am asking for a bit of patience and understanding on your part."

"Fine. You've got it. Whatever." She stared anywhere in the cabin but at him.

"Whatever? What does that mean?"

"It means what it means. Whatever you want, however you want it."

Another chewed-gravel oath from the Elf. "Bloody hell, it's just ink!"

"It isn't just ink." Much to Ivy's her dismay, she felt on the edge of tears. _I will NOT cry in front of him. I will NOT give him that satisfaction!_ "It's a point of honor now."

Tilting his head, Legolas considered her words. "How has it become so?"

"My mother thinks the stuff I know about art is useless, and I can't help but feel you're thinking the same. I _know_ you're under stress, and I'm sorry. Do you think I'm not feeling the pressure, too? I've just found out Elves are real and that I'm immortal, but I can't ask you questions about anything because you're studying for some important thing at the meeting. Haldir is supposed to tell everything when we get to this strange place I've never been to before, and...and I'm trying to help any way I can and not get on your bad side, but...but _whatever!_ Look, you do what you need to do, and so will I. Your stupid meeting will come and go, and then I'll go, and...let's just use the pen and forget about it, okay?"

Looking away, she blinked back tears. "It's not worth the argument. You have better stuff to worry about."

"I see." Glancing down, Legolas drew slow circles with the pen. "It is a fine pen. Thank you for explaining to me how it works."

"Anytime." _I will __not__ cry._

"Perhaps Greenwood should look into investing in them," Legolas said softly.

She swiped away an errant tear. _Is he trying to be nice now? What, does nobody challenge his more arrogant assumptions? I may be an infant to him, but I'm not stupid, and I'm not falling for it._ She didn't say anything.

Legolas held his hand out across the table. "Please forgive me, Ivy MacLeod? It was not my intent to hurt you or question your honor."

It sounded like a formal apology. Glancing from the Elf's hand to his face, Ivy felt bewildered, but knew he expected a response. _I don't get what he's doing now._

"It's okay. I shouldn't have gone off on you like that." She put her hand in his, thinking to shake on it, but Legolas closed his fingers instead and laid his other hand atop hers.

"Thank you for sharing your knowledge with me." He sounded sincere, and he was half-smiling, as if he were every bit as uncertain as she was.

_Oh, damn. That smile will get him anything he wants. _"You did ask."

"I know I did." His dimples deepened, but there was no mockery in his eyes. "Forgive me?"

"Yeah, okay. I guess so."

A final squeeze of her hand and Legolas returned to his work. Her fingers tingled where they'd been tangled with his. Settling back, she felt more than a little confused about the argument they'd just had. Haldir's faxes forgotten, Ivy stared at the Elf as openly as she dared. _He's certainly more than a little odd._

The monotonous sound of the plane engines as well as the escalating warmth of the cabin coaxed her into closing her eyes. What would it hurt if she fell asleep? Legolas certainly didn't need her to stay awake.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Ivy awoke when her ears began to ache as the plane descended fast through the darkness and the cabin temperature grew colder. Legolas had cleared the table of the collection of papers and moved back to his bulkhead seat. Glancing out of the window as the engines slowed and the Lear banked sharply, Ivy saw a line of blue runway lights streak past, but nothing else.

"It's so dark out there. Where are we landing?" she dared to ask.

"Close to the house, on a private runway at the edge of Loch Shin." His voice was calm, but his knuckles were white where his fingers gripped the armrests.

_Would he tell me if the landing were in danger?_ she wondered. _Would I want to know?_

_No,_ she decided. _I don't want to know._

"It is only nine o'clock," Legolas volunteered as the Lear lined up and sank gracefully toward its landing. "Haldir should have supper waiting."

The plane touched down lightly on the snowy runway, and Ivy thought that Alastair was well worth whatever Greenwood was paying him. The reverse thrusters fired to slow the plane, which eventually turned off of the tarmac and onto a narrow lane of snow-packed asphalt. Headlights gleamed as a car bounced toward them.

Ivy rose as Legolas did when Alastair emerged from the cockpit to lower the stairway. The Elf followed the pilot down to the ground, but set out for the waiting Range Rover while Alastair turned to retrieve their luggage. Ivy hovered at the bottom of the stairs, uncertain what to do in the dark and cold. A bitter wind streaked through her, so that she lowered her head and wrapped up tight in Legolas' bear parka.

A silhouette crunched toward her over the snow.

"Ivy, is that you?" Someone peered at her beneath the hood of the coat. It's so nice to have you safe on the ground. I'm Haldir, and you must be freezing."

It was the same soothing voice she had heard on the phone, but now she had the image of an austere face with a long nose and a head of long hair whipping in the wind like some demented silver-blonde mane to go with the voice.

"I'm Ivy, and you're right. Legolas tried to warn me how cold it is--"

"No description can prepare one for the wind off the loch." Another coat was placed over Legolas', and an arm slid firmly across Ivy's shoulders. Pulling her to him, Haldir bundled her up in a warm hug. "Come inside the Range Rover and get warm while we shift your things from the plane."

She was guided into warmth and silence and the door closed behind her. The warmth didn't last long, as Legolas flung open the back door to accommodate the bags Alastair and Haldir slung inside. Moving around the Rover, Legolas took the front seat. Haldir followed on the other side to take the wheel.

Slamming the back door, Alastair pounded twice on the glass, and then Haldir was turning the Rover around. Caught in the light beams, Alastair took the steps back up into the plane.

"What about Alastair?" she asked.

"His car is in the hangar," relayed Haldir. "He'll put away the plane and go home, off down the hill to the village."

"I didn't get to say thank-you or good-bye," Ivy whispered to herself, shivering as the warmth tried to reach beneath her coats.

"Don't worry for that," said Legolas, and Ivy started, realizing the pointy Elven ears had managed to catch her whispered words. "He should be at the ceilidh, you can thank him then."

_What's a ceilidh?_ She wanted to ask out loud, but sensed now was not the time as the two Elves began a quiet conversation between themselves.

"Has anyone else arrived?" Legolas asked.

"Not yet. You're well ahead of them all."

"Thank Elbereth for small blessings."

Ivy stared out the window as the two switched to Sindarin. _I have got to learn Elvish. I wonder if Amazon sells lessons on CD?_

She couldn't see much beyond the Range Rover's lights, only a narrow dirt road ahead and a blanket of snow swirling around them. The road wound its way up through a thick forest of tall trees that, when combined with the snow, made Ivy feel slightly claustrophobic.

_I wish we could have landed in daylight,_ she mused.

Haldir slowed as a huge, grey stone wall loomed up beside them. The Rover traveled a few more feet before rolling to a stop inside a what appeared to be a long, multi-car garage.

Exiting the SUV as her companions did, Ivy looked back to see the stone wall they'd encountered belonged to a dignified castle to which the garage was attached. Carriage lights winkled at her through the falling snow until someone activated the automatic garage door, which lowered and blocked the view. There hadn't been nearly enough time or light for her to glimpse any real details; Legolas' home could have had black towers and gargoyles for all she'd seen.

The Elf dropped Ivy's bag at her feet before retrieving his own and passing on. She hefted the satchel into her arms, only to have Haldir take it the next instant.

"What the devil is he thinking, making you carry your own luggage? Hang about!" the silver-haired Elf called out to Legolas, who was fast disappearing through a door Ivy assumed led into the house. "Some host you're turning out to be."

"I think he has other things on his mind," Ivy murmured, following Haldir into the house.

"Undoubtedly, as he will for days to come, but that's no excuse to forget his manners."

"He'll not be forgettin' his manners with me about, will you laddie?" a new voice intruded, this one feminine and with a Scots accent that was, if possible, even stronger than Alastair's to Ivy's ears.

Ivy peered over Haldir's shoulder to see a short, pinch-faced woman standing in a frayed, lumpy sweater and skirt, rubbing her hands on her apron. At the moment, she was glowering up at Legolas, who was trying to slip past her and into the hall beyond.

"New laird of this manor you may well be, but you'll not be tromping over my clean floors with those boots. Leave them here in the mudroom."

Ivy thought she heard a soft growl before Legolas dropped his luggage and complied. Haldir bent over his own boots, while Ivy managed to close the door and stood against it, almost in the corner of the small room and hopefully well out of the way of the woman's verbal blast.

"You'll be Ivy. I'm Bridie, himself's housekeeper." The woman's gaze raked Ivy head to toe, and she scowled. "Ach, did your mum not feed you? You're not but a wee thing, skin and bones. Get yourself into my kitchen, I've something hot for you."

Bridie hustled out and Legolas stared at Ivy. "For me she has a scolding, but for you it's something good to eat?"

"Marian always had a Christmas present for Bridie, and I told her Marian's daughter would be joining us."

"Oh, that's great, I've brought nothing for her," Ivy hissed, shrugging out of her coat and hanging it on the nearest peg before removing her new boots.

"Give her my bear coat." Legolas grinned before disappearing around the corner.

"Yeah, that'll make me popular." Kicking her boots into the corner, she hurried after the Elf and left Haldir clucking over the room's disarray.

Ivy sprinted down the empty hallway. Determined to catch up with Elf, she slid hard on the slick wood floor in her stockinged feet. Legolas turned, his hand on what Ivy assumed was the kitchen door, as she very nearly slid into him.

The Elf arched an eyebrow. "Floor surfing?"

"Um..."

"Very well done. We could have used you at Helm's Deep."

He pushed through the door and into a designer kitchen that was every bit the religious experience the Four Seasons bath had been. What looked to be antique hardwood cabinetry housed two stainless steel ovens and a huge, gleaming refrigerator. The black marble counter-space seemed endless, while the stovetop had been beautifully married to the center island which also housed a Vinotemp.

"Doesn't your castle have a wine cellar?" she whispered to Legolas.

"There." Legolas pointed to a dark oak door set in the opposite wall. "Haldir believes it's haunted and refuses to go below."

Bridie was dishing up bowls of stew, and Ivy inhaled deeply. "That smells delicious."

"I should hope so, I made it myself." The housekeeper beamed. "The bread's just out of the oven, and there's fresh butter and honey. Take a slice and a bowl, and sit yourselves down."

Haldir reappeared as Ivy was joining the Elf at the heavily scarred oak table that looked to have survived a few hundred Scottish winters. Bridie plopped an open bottle of wine on the table as Haldir slid into the chair at the head of the table.

"I've kept you late tonight," the Elf said when the housekeeper had set his stew and buttered bread before him. "You should go."

"Not until I've seen you lot finish your supper, seen Marian's bairn up to her room, and sorted out the kitchen. Then I'll be going home." Going around the table, Bridie claimed her own chair, put her arms on the table and settled in to watch them eat.

Taking in Haldir's placid acceptance as he poured the wine, and Legolas' bristling as he watched the housekeeper watching all of them, it wasn't hard for Ivy to sense the inevitable rising storm. Ducking her head, she chose to concentrate on her meal and wasn't at all surprised when Legolas began speaking to Haldir in a stream of clipped Elvish.

Haldir replied quietly, which seemed to do little to sooth Legolas' tirade. The Elf then began speaking so fast, Ivy couldn't even catch the odd word. They were still at it when she got up to take her dishes to the sink.

Bridie joined her there, to intercept the dishes and stack them as she preferred. "It's sleep you'll be wanting now. Get your things, but leave your boots, and meet me in the hall."

Glancing at the two Elves, she saw they were still deep in discussion, with Legolas having shredded his bread and barely touching his stew. Hurrying to retrieve her things, Ivy dared not let Bridie see her slide on the wood floor, but padded quietly back to where the woman waited outside her kitchen.

Ivy was then led through what seemed the entire length of the house. Her first impression was of a deathly quiet and cold, old and dark place filled with a lot of wood paneling and heavy furniture of no specific period she could easily identify. She was so tired that everything was a blur in her mind, including the monologue Bridie kept up as they went.

They climbed a beautiful narrow staircase with an intricately carved banister, which Ivy ached to examine in the light of day. Reaching the second floor, she was briefly aware of a long, dimly lit corridor before Bridie led Ivy straight across it.

"This'll be your room, as it was your mother's whenever she visited us."

A wave of welcome heat rolled past Ivy as she followed the housekeeper into the room. "It's warm."

"The master had me light the fire earlier today to warm the room for you. Right thoughtful, he is." Bridie turned on a bedside lamp and continued on. "The WC's through here, and yours is private unlike some others in this house."

Ivy peered inside the small bathroom to discover a sea of ancient white tile, a commode with a water cabinet above - complete with a chain and wooden handle to be pulled, which Ivy assumed would flush the commode - and a freestanding clawed-foot bathtub that was so high and long that Ivy thought she might get lost in it.

"Is the plumbing Victorian?" she asked.

"Aye, that's the last time the laird updated this wing." Bridie fiddled with the small water heater tucked between the sink and the bathtub. "I've turned up the gas so you'll have hot water in the morning, and there's enough for a shower. Arrangements will have to be made if it's a bath you want."

Ivy wondered what that meant. _Would she heat buckets on the fire and pour them into the tub like they did in medieval times? _

"Towels are in here. If it's anything else you need, you'll be letting me know tomorrow when I bring up your breakfast." Pushing past Ivy, the housekeeper raked back the curtains of the four-poster bed and continued on to the fireplace. "I'll stoke the fire so you'll be toasty warm though the night. There's a bed warmer here for you if you'd like it."

The housekeeper tapped the round metal object with a long wooden handle that was hanging beside the fireplace. "It's no more than two minutes in the fire, and run it lightly across your sheet. No longer unless you mean to burn it."

She poked the fire and shoved another log on top, then set the iron-and-mesh screen back in place. Rising, Bridie wiped her hands on her apron, gave a brisk nod, and headed for the door. "Good-night, dearie."

For all her exhaustion, Ivy lost no time in prowling the room once the housekeeper had gone. Starting at the fireplace, she warmed her hands and unhooked the bedwarmer to get a better look at it.

_Is this...silver?_ She opened it and peered inside. _It's definitely been used - did Mom use it? - but it looks like it belongs in a museum. Victorian, huh?_ She stared at the massive bed and its intricately carved frame. _That's not Victorian. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a chamber pot under the bed._

She had to check. Much to her relief, there wasn't. Getting to her feet once more, Ivy ran a hand over the wood paneling and stared up at the ornate tin ceiling. A pair of French doors graced the far wall of the room with a shadowy balcony beyond. Ivy wandered over to peer into the darkness.

_How big is this castle?_ She could see little beyond the stone terrace and the snow piling up there. Ice coated the windows, discouraging her from opening the French doors and letting all of the heat escape into the night. _I guess I'll find out more about this place tomorrow. It would be nice to find out more._

Giving up for the night, she put on her pajamas and brushed her teeth. Even with the fire warming the room, she was too cold to fall asleep immediately.

_Legolas said it would be cold. I didn't get how cold until now. _Getting up in exasperation, she put her sweatsuit on over her pj's, glad she'd thought to get them. Pulling the blankets up to her nose, she quickly fell asleep in a cocoon of warmth.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

Legolas juggled his satchel and armful of papers before pushing through the back door of the kitchen and into the enclosed, cement-floored workroom beyond. Wrapping his fingers around a section of the doorframe, the Elf felt for the faintest rising in the wood. Pressing firmly, he heard a soft click and was gratified when a hidden door swung inward. A dark stairwell within led up to the second floor, to his private wing and sanctuary.

"We refitted the lock at the top of the stairs with a coded keypad," Haldir offered.

Turning, Legolas shoved his papers at the marchwarden, before taking the stairs two at a time. "What is the code?"

"There isn't one yet, I thought you'd want to set your own." Haldir paused on the step below Legolas as he eyed the newest bit of technology to get in his way.

"How thoughtful of you. How do I set it?"

"Press six digits, and then press the pound key."

Peering at the keypad, Legolas poked 3-1-2-9-3-1-#. A faint beep rewarded his efforts.

"The code is now set," Haldir relayed. "Re-enter the numbers to actually open the door."

Legolas did, and the keypad whirred.

"You have three seconds to turn the knob. Much better than a key, don't you think, as keys can become lost?"

"I suppose so." _Though I've managed to hang onto mine for three hundred years,_ thought Legolas.

The hallway beyond was softly lit, and the wood paneling had not changed, despite Legolas' fears he'd return to find it painted over. The thin old carpeting with its unattractive floral pattern had been replaced, but he couldn't fault that: the wool to make the original carpet had come from Lairg sheep sometime in the eighteenth century and had been thinning when Legolas left. Interior decorating had never been his strong point.

The heavy wooden door directly to his left stood closed, and no keypad graced it. Legolas let his satchel thump to the floor.

"Did you change the lock to my private suite as well?" Legolas asked.

"I wouldn't dare."

The well-oiled lock turned easily, as Legolas thought it should under its original key. Reaching for the lightswitch just inside the door, he discovered a fragile plastic knob had taken its place. _What else has he interfered with? _"Haldir--"

"Here, let me." Haldir pushed aside Legolas' hand. "It's a dimmer switch, you see? Terribly convenient, I installed a number of them a few years ago. You push to turn it on, and then turn it like control the brightness of the lights." He demonstrated. "Better than candlelight, don't you think?"

Legolas made no answer, but prowled further into the room.

"As you can see, your sanctum sanctorum hasn't been disturbed," Haldir soothed. "I did take the liberty of having the housekeeper straighten the mess you made while packing for that last trip. Your bed's been made and the room had been dusted from time to time - supervised by me, of course. Beyond that, no one has been in here. Not one thing has been touched."

Legolas eyed the stack of clothing on his bed. It would all have to go, of course. He wouldn't miss it, for it was all out of date and reminded him of his time with Isabel.

_I'll see it burned,_ he thought. Aloud, Legolas commented, "That is well."

The rest of the room welcomed him with its purely functional oak furniture that the Elf himself had crafted centuries before. His massive ash secretary with its triple glass-enclosed bookshelves sat safely closed and locked, while the worktable that had been assembled in Ithilien was easily the messiest thing in the room. Old correspondence, books and business reports, blueprints and carpenter's catalogs were stacked haphazardly across its surface. Most would be discarded as being out of date and quite useless, but Legolas looked forward to revisiting the carpenter's catalogs.

_Their products are timeless enough, and perhaps some of the suppliers are still in business._ Working with wood had always soothed him, and the Elf felt badly in need of soothing. _One thing at a time,_ he admonished himself. _See to the meeting first._

Settling his faxes on a nearby chair, Legolas gathered a tall pile of old papers and set it on the floor, only to straighten and notice what looked like a small television and typewriter keyboard was lurking in the space behind it.

_So nothing else has been touched?_ Looking at Haldir, Legolas narrowed his eyes. "What is this?"

"It's called a computer."

"I know that. Why is it in here?"

"Because you'll need it in here. Lee Greenwood will be sending emails and receiving faxes constantly. You might even enjoy surfing the Internet from time to time. Of course you don't know what the Internet is yet--"

"I know what the bloody Internet is, the general store in Meyer's Chuck was connected to it. I am not interested in cruising or surfing or whatevering it." Shoving his papers to the middle of the table, Legolas sat down. "You know as well as I that Lee Greenwood may not even have reason to exist after tomorrow's meeting. I've a limited number of hours to learn all I can about Julien's proposal and why it's being supported, so can we please dispense with the new technology tour and get started?"

"Of course, Legolas." Haldir's voice dripped sarcasm, for all that he sketched a polite bow before sitting down. "We already know the vote will be very close. Perhaps fatally so."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Perhaps we could persuade Ivy ahead of the meeting?"

Legolas shook his head. "In all the hundreds of years of Greenwood's existence, I have never attempted to manipulate any vote, much less Queen's Daughter's. I absolutely refuse to begin, at this late date, to play Machiavelli to Julien's Mephistopheles."

"As you wish." A chastened Haldir fell silent.

Taking up a yellowed notepad, Legolas wiped it free of dust before reaching for a stray pen that lay nearby. Uncapping it, he discovered it was another uncooperative, dried-up fountain pen. Sighing, he drew Ivy's gelled wonder from his pocket, only to uncap and turn it between his fingers. _Out with the old Queen's Daughters...they are as dust to me. What of the new one I left downstairs? _

"Haldir, what do I need to know about Ivy MacLeod?"

"Let me get her file, I left it in my study."

Legolas' hand on Haldir's wrist stopped him before he rose. "I need nothing so detailed as her life's file. She says she is an artist. Who do you believe her to be?"

Folding his hands before him, Haldir recited, "We've had her watched all her life, unbeknownst to her mother, so our records are very complete. She was born in Phoenix, Arizona on the 18th of May, 1980. That is also the day Mount St. Helen's erupted."

Legolas arched an eyebrow at that useless bit of information.

"I'll jump forward to the present, shall I?" Haldir rushed on. "She is indeed an artist, though that is something her mother will probably never acknowledge."

"Is the child that bad?"

"Bad?" Haldir sounded incredulous. "Quite to the contrary. Regardless Ivy's talent, Marian wanted her daughter to go to business school. Ivy's refusal at the tender age of eighteen marked the first time she refused any demand made by her mother."

Reaching across the table, the marchwarden flipped on the computer. "Ivy earned her Bachelor of Arts in Art a little more than two years ago. Two days before you met, she was awarded her Master of Fine Arts in Art from San Francisco State University."

"She wishes to teach, then?"

"Oh, no. Ivy has prepared herself to compete in the professional world of painters."

Legolas gestured dismissively. "Throughout the ages, starving artists have been halfpenny a dozen."

Ignoring the observation, Haldir pulled the computer keyboard toward him and began tapping on the keys. "Her Masters thesis was entitled, 'Francesco Salviati's Designs for Decorative Arts: a marriage of color, function and imagery.' I have a copy in the south wing if you'd like to examine it."

"Salviati?" Leaning back, Legolas crossed his arms. "So she is enamored of the Italian Mannerists and their frescoes?"

"Not really, though I'm sure she could replicate their style. No, our Ivy paints horses. And not just any horses." With a flourish, Haldir turned the screen so that Legolas could see it.

A white stallion ran free on a moonlit shore, sea foam dancing at the edges of its hooves. Cantering in the surf, the horse was in perpetual movement. Its captured and held Legolas' own, and the Elf felt the proud creature's presence, for the spirit of this horse was fully there - watching Legolas as Legolas watched him. A hand-calligraphied quote flowed in the night-cloud sky behind the stallion.

_"This one creature I have found who mirrors my soul._

_To him alone do I give the mystery of who I am."_

_Author Unknown_

"Ivy knows horses," Legolas said bluntly.

"It might be more accurate to say that Ivy knows the horses she creates. She was given a pony for Christmas when she was twelve, but her mother ripped her away from Windfola the summer Ivy was fifteen, and they moved to San Francisco."

"She named her pony after Eowyn's gelding?" Legolas said, incredulous.

"Yes, but Ivy's Windfola was a grey mare."

Legolas snorted. "Why would she name her pony after the gelding that threw its rider and ran away in the presence of the Witch-king?"

"Everyone ran away from the Witch-king. Except Eowyn."

"Yes, but why not name the pony something more suitable? Like Bumpkin or Wise-nose."

"Why don't you ask Ivy when next you see her?" The marchwarden sighed deeply off of the dark look Legolas gave him. "Eowyn longed to do as she pleased, did she not? So did Ivy, and I've no doubt her grandfather's ranch in Montana became the land of the Rohirrim in her imagination. Just as the stallion of that piece you're ogling so intently became Shadowfax a few years afterward."

Legolas blinked to realize he'd once again been pulled in by the horse's gaze. Regardless it was imprisoned in a one-dimensional, pixelated world, Ivy's Shadowfax still seemed a sentient being with a palpable presence, capable of wisdom and physical power. Sea, sky and sand melted away until Legolas saw and felt only the horse.

_Breathe,_ the animal whispered to the Elf. _Relax and center. Be with me._

Far from passively viewing the artwork, Legolas felt compelled to reach for the screen because he felt compelled to reach out to the horse. The Elf found himself wanting nothing more than to leap onto that painted back and be carried a long time away from the pressures and worries he now faced.

_It is only an image, yet he seems alive and he speaks to me._ Shivering slightly, Legolas sought to rid himself of whatever spell Ivy MacLeod's painting was capable of casting. _I have been too long away from horses._

A stable full of equine strangers waited for him just beyond the castle's back door. He had only to shove back the door and spend a few moments murmuring Elven reassurances, scratching behind ears, and breathing nose to nose to make those strangers his friends.

_No good could come of such friendships if, as tomorrow ends, they no longer belong to me. But perhaps the worst will not happen,_ Legolas further reflected. _Perhaps, as painted-Shadowfax suggests, I should breathe, relax, and try to remain centered throughout this ordeal, no matter its outcome._

"Have we purchased any of Ivy's pieces?" Legolas asked, pulling himself back to the present.

"Of course not." The older Elf sounded scandalized. "They don't go with our décor."

"I see." Unwilling to continue losing himself in the painting, Legolas turned the screen back toward Haldir. "I am glad this Queen's Daughter seems an accomplished artist. What else is she?"

"Little else, I'm afraid. Because Ivy has concentrated so completely on her art, her business experience is limited to dealing with the public at a handful of art shows and the San Francisco gallery handling her pieces. I cannot tell if her inexperience will work for or against us tomorrow. I believe much will depend on how much she resembles her female predecessors, as opposed to whatever she may have inherited from Aragorn's line. Had Marian chosen to attend this meeting, I could say with certainty how she would vote. But Ivy--"Haldir pursed his lips.

"Let me guess," Legolas said dryly. "The girl is - for all your watching and analysis - a totally unknown quantity?" ventured Legolas.

"I'm afraid so."

_A/U: Ivy's horse art is based on Kim McElroy's - an accomplished professional artist whose work and website can be found at spiritofhorse dot com__ . If you visit Kim's site, please be sure to click on Stories and read, at the bottom left of the page under Artistic Inspirations, "Avenger: Is, Was and Ever Shall Be." In the 80s, Kim maintained a booth at the annual Scottsdale Arabian Horseshow in Scottsdale, Arizona, which is where I first encountered her and Avenger. Wednesday_


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Ivy awoke in the morning to Bridie banging a breakfast tray on the lovely antique table next to the fireplace. The housekeeper all but glowered when Ivy rolled over and peered over her blankets.

"What time is it?"

"Past dawn, Ivy MacLeod."

She blinked in the wan winter light. It was cold in the room, far colder than when she had finally gone to sleep.

_It's probably still snowing,_ Ivy thought, wanting nothing more than to cocoon down in the heavy, warm blankets again and sleep the day away.

"I'll not be lighting another fire, for you'll not be in here long," Bridie's voice intruded. "The grating needs cleaning, anyway."

Plates scraped against plates. "Here's plenty of tea and porridge for your breakfast. You'll be meeting the master in his library when you're ready."

"Where's his library?" Ivy dared to ask, struggling to understand the woman's rapid-fire communication.

"Left out the door with himself's rooms at the end of the hall. The new laird's with him." Sniffing her disapproval, Bridie hustled out of the room.

Ivy wrapped up in the comforter before slipping out of bed. She tried the porridge - oatmeal to her - only to reject the thick, saltless lumps and shove aside the bowl.

_How long has that oatmeal been sitting around,_ she wondered, _and what makes me think himself and the new laird got fresh buttered scones and new-laid eggs because they were up at dawn? No good breakfast for the jetlagged in Scotland, obviously. And I thought Bridie kind of liked me last night._

The tea at least was warm, and the shower water was sinfully hot, so Ivy felt somewhat cheered as she dressed. A few minutes later, and she stepped out of her room and into an unfamiliar corridor leading to yet one more strange new world.

Flames flickered in brass wall sconces, which made Ivy wonder if the castle lighting had ever been updated from Victorian gaslights. A sneaking look closer revealed that the energy source was electric and the flickering only a faux-gaslight feature of the bulbs.

Ivy sighed in disappointment. _It may have been archaic, astonishing Ithilien once, but I guess everything has been updated to keep pace with things each century. Darn it._

The hall carpet was thick beneath her feet, completely muffling the sound of her booted steps. Its pattern was a tangle of green leaves and branches woven so realistically that Ivy felt like she was walking on tree tops. Glancing across to the stairway leading down to the ground floor, she saw that the branch-and-leaf pattern disappeared down the carpeted stairs.

_I guess Legolas Greenleaf likes green leaves. A lot,_ thought Ivy.

Heading left as Bridie had directed, she paused to stare at the heavy oak furniture placed strategically down the corridor. Knowing nothing about antiques - other than they were old, and that Legolas' furniture was probably _really_ old - Ivy had no idea what she was looking at. Chewing her lip, she vaguely regretted following a course of specialized study that had her knowing a lot about art history, but practically nothing about historic styles beyond the painting techniques used in each period. She did notice that Legolas seemed to have accumulated a lot of wood furniture to accompany his forest of green leaves.

_I know wood's warmer than stone,_ Ivy admitted, _but doesn't it get loose in its joints and fall apart with age?_

The bed Ivy had slept in, while lovely old oak and very spacious, had creaked with every movement she made. Ivy felt as if the house itself was constantly making noises, yet everything appeared to be holding together nicely.

_If I were four thousand years old, I'd probably be a bit creaky, too. There's probably a story behind every piece - would Legolas tell them to me if I asked? Some might even call him ancient, and I guess they'd be right._

Glancing upward, Ivy saw that the leaf motif on the floor was repeated on the ceiling. Peering closer, she realized that the forest pattern painted on the wood was rich with a dark patina.

_That's got to be really old,_ she realized. _I wonder who did it? _Her artist's mind itched to climb up and inspect it more closely. _Maybe Legolas will let me come back later with a flashlight and take some notes._

_His house is all greens and browns like the forests a woodland Elf would feel comfy in. It's weird, too, _Ivy concluded as she approached the heavy black oak library door that stood open. _I like it._

# #

Haldir intercepted Ivy the moment she walked into his library, which made Ivy wonder if her footsteps weren't all that muffled after all. _It's that, or his fantastic Elven hearing._

"Did you sleep well?" the Elf asked, taking her elbow. "I trust Bridie brought you a good breakfast."

"Oh, yes." Ivy summoned a bright smile. If the housekeeper already resented her guest's sleeping in, there was no way Ivy was going to further alienate the woman by asking for a better breakfast. "She told me where to find you too, so here I am."

"That is well."

She preceded Haldir into the library, which was laid out in an L. Two large rooms were lit by a few narrow windows with thick glass panes that distorted the view beyond. A Vinotemp was slotted beneath one of the windows close to what Ivy assumed was Haldir's desk which dominated the corner. Every available wall of both rooms was covered from floor to ceiling with bookcases, the sort figuring in every Ivory Merchant movie that Ivy's mother had made her sit through.

"What beautiful books." Ivy ran a hand over the closest shelf. Her fingers came away dusty, and she surreptitiously rubbed her hand on her jeans. "Are they in Elvish, Gaelic or English?"

"A bit of everything, depending on the volume." He closed the door behind her. "Come sit with me, my dear."

A pair of enormous wing-backed chairs sat before the second room's fireplace with their backs to the door. A fire crackled companionably on the hearth, and the room was deliciously warm. Ivy hoped Haldir would lead her to one of the wingbacks, as they looked the perfect place to curl up in on a cold winter's morning.

Unfortunately, Haldir turned away from the fireplace. Going around the corner, he led Ivy to a ponderous table that had definitely been built for business rather than comfort. A small stack of folders had been placed neatly in the middle of the otherwise empty table, and Ivy had the sinking feeling they were probably for her. Pulling out a chair for Ivy, Haldir waited for her to be seated.

_So much for a comfy chair in front of the fire,_ she groused to herself_. I wonder where Legolas is?_

Going around the table, Haldir settled opposite Ivy.

"Where to begin. I suppose that I should share the house rules for the weekend." The Elf frowned slightly. "Legolas, what are the house rules?"

"Rule one: show up at mealtimes if you want to be fed." A somewhat bored, disembodied voice floated from one of the wing-back chairs. "Rule two: show up for the meeting tomorrow promptly at ten. Beyond that, there are no rules."

"I would add one more," inserted cheerful Haldir.

"You always do," the disembodied voice noted.

Ivy stifled a smile, while Haldir ignored the voice and reached across the table to pat Ivy's hands where she'd folded them in deliberate imitation of Haldir's own formality.

"Rule three: I'm here to make everyone's stay more comfortable, so you must tell me if you require something we've not thought of. A buffet-style breakfast will begin at eight tomorrow morning, and our board meeting will begin promptly at ten."

_Oh, goody, _thought Ivy, _more lumpy oatmeal._

"Tonight will see a meet-and-greet cocktail hour and supper buffet beginning at seven-thirty. Our other board members will begin arriving shortly, but you aren't expected to meet them until tonight. Don't worry about dressing for anything - most of us don't, including myself and Legolas."

"That's good, because I didn't bring anything dressy."

"I think you'll agree that in this house keeping warm is much more important than looking good. Now..." Switching to Sindarin, Haldir raised his voice. "Legolas, should I explain Julien's proposal to her?"

"No. She should find her own way at the meeting," replied Legolas in the same language.

"Then what am I to tell her?"

"Why don't you ask Ivy what she wants to know?"

_I understood some of that,_ Ivy realized. _I caught my name, and wasn't Julien the name of the guy who spilled all to Professor Tolkien?_

"Have you any questions I might answer for you?" Haldir asked politely, in English.

"Um..." She began with the thing that made her stomach twist most violently into knots. "How many people am I supposed to meet tonight?"

"There are twelve...no, there are thirteen, as three come from Australia. How careless of me not to have introduced you ahead of time, if only on paper!" The Elf began scribbling a series of names on a nearby notepad. "In compliance with Mortal legalities, we use our Mortal names at board meetings because that is what must be used in the minutes. Since we all respond to those names, you needn't worry about learning our real ones right now."

Haldir spun the notepad around. Leaning forward, Ivy peered at the list of names he'd created.

Lee Greenwood Scotland

Halden Greenwood Scotland

Elden Warlow Australia

Gordon Weston Australia

Daniel Meyler Wales

David Meyler Wales (Proxy - Daniel)

Julien Lovell England

Wendy Lovell England

Mona Williams Belgium

Kiki Emerson Los Angeles

Kate Hutton New York

Marina Palermo New York

"That's only twelve," she noted, "and only two from Oz are on the list."

Haldir waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, the third fellow isn't to worry about. He doesn't sit on the board, and he'll spend all of his time in the kitchen. Actually, there are only eleven coming to this meeting because David Meyler won't be in attendance. His brother Daniel will be voting proxy for him. I know this list is nothing more than names to you at the moment, which must be bewildering--"

"This entire week has been nothing but bewildering," Ivy inserted. _And you're not exactly helping._

"You'll have faces to go with the names soon enough, so I wouldn't worry."

_You won't worry, _Ivy thought, _because you aren't scared spitless at the prospect of walking into a room full of strange and scary Elves in just a few hours. _

"Oh, I meant to ask you..." Haldir interrupted her musings. "Which Clan of MacLeod do you hail from?"

Ivy blinked at the sudden change of subject. "Um...MacLeod of Raasay."

"Ah, yes. They were part of Sìol Torcaill - MacLeod of Lewis. You know, Jacobite members of that clan attached themselves to MacDonell's Glengarry regiment at the Battle of Culloden. A handful of clansmen, women and children who survived the bloody aftermath sought refuge with us here. We should enquire after your genealogy, as you might well have been blessed with Elven blood on both sides of the blanket. We'll have to see."

Haldir prattled on, reminiscing about days gone by about which Ivy knew nothing. She tried to look interested, but couldn't help keeping one eye on the clock and wondering when lunch would be.

_Listening to Legolas on the plane was never boring,_ she thought, mentally shaking herself to stay awake an hour later. _What's wrong with me?_

She found herself repeatedly stifling yawns until finally, in the early afternoon, Bridie arrived with a trolley loaded with sandwiches and crisps, as Haldir called them. There was also the ever-present pot of hot tea.

_I'm dying for a diet Coke. _Ivy sighed to herself.Welcoming any escape from Haldir's educational table, Ivy stretched her stiff muscles and listened to Bridie.

"Here's your lunch, m'laird, and the Lovells from London just called to say they've crossed into the county. I've been told to warm their rooms and mix their drinks, so I'll see to that before getting myself down the hill and home before...that Elf...arrives from Sydney."

"Oh, bloody hell, they're early." Haldir scowled.

"Who is?" Ivy asked.

"Julien and his sister, Wendy." The marchwarden sighed as if greatly put upon. "Very well, Bridie. I'll ring you when our band of merry directors has departed, and you can reclaim your kitchen."

"That Elf isn't to change a thing while I'm gone. You tell him I said so, m'laird, and is there anything else you'll be needing before I go?"

"Not a thing." Bridie left, and Haldir turned his attention back to Ivy. "I must make sure all is ready for our guests. You needn't worry about running into them, as they won't leave the first floor just yet."

"Just yet?"

"Their bedrooms are across from yours, but Julien will homestead the telephone in the receiving room while Wendy will turn on the telly. I suggest you have lunch with Legolas here, and then retire to your room for a nice, long nap. Really Ivy, you look exhausted."

"I think I'm jetlagged."

"Most probably." He began inching toward the door. "Be sure to set your alarm for seven-thirty this evening. If you've not appeared by eight-thirty, I'll come find you."

Ivy wrinkled her nose at being ordered about as if she were twelve. "Where am I to...appear?"

"In the formal dining hall. That's straight down the stairs and most of the way down the hallway toward the kitchen. You'll want the large room opposite the grandfather clock. Don't feel pressured, simply come down whenever you feel ready."

_As long as it's before eight-thirty or you'll come find me,_ Ivy groused silently. "Okay."

"There will be plenty of food and drink, and you will finally meet the rest of us."

"That's nice." Ivy tried not to grit her teeth.

"I must fly, as the Lovells will be furious if all is not in order and I am not there to greet them when they arrive."

Haldir strode out, all Lothlórien confidence and self-importance, with Ivy not unhappy to see him go. Her head felt as if it were about to explode. Her ears felt as if they were stuffed with cotton after trying to absorb the Elf's lectures all morning, and her stomach growled loudly to remind her of how hungry she was.

No sound came from the chair she thought still contained Legolas. _I suppose he could have snuck out while Haldir was droning on, _thought Ivy, _but I hope not._ Glancing at the trolley, she selected a tuna sandwich and some potato crisps - chips to her. Longing for a Diet Coke, she poured a cup of tea and added lots of milk and sugar.

"If you're there, do you want something to eat?" she asked the back of the wing-back chairs.

"No, thank you," came the beautiful voice that made Ivy smile inside whenever she heard it.

"Maybe you'd like something to drink? You have a choice of tea or more tea."

A pause. "Very well. No milk or sugar, please. And if Bridie thought to send up a mug among the cups and saucers, I'd be ever so."

Bridie had. Bringing the mug of tea to Legolas, Ivy had to pick her way delicately through messy piles of paper surrounding his chair. As for the Elf, he was sitting with his legs pulled up and his bare feet sticking out, as though he were perched in the heart of an old oak. Three other mugs sat on the carpet beside the chair, so that Ivy thought Legolas had probably already had his choice between cold tea or colder tea that morning.

A ragged manila folder was propped on his knees.The long golden hair flowing over his shoulders glowed weakly in the winter light, and dark shadows stained the thin skin beneath Legolas' blue eyes.

_He looks far too vulnerable this afternoon,_ thought Ivy.

"Thank you." The Elf took a long pull on the tea before setting the mug next to its abandoned companions on the floor.

Retrieving her sandwich and tea, Ivy sank into the comfortable old chair next to him and cast about for some neutral topic. "Are you wearing one of the new pairs of jeans from New York?"

"I am."

"They look good on you."

"I am also still using your pen." Smudges of ink stained his fingers. "I hope you don't mind."

"Keep it. I have others." She was amazed how good tuna tasted when one was really hungry.

"How are you getting on with Haldir?"

"He's...um..." Ivy hesitated and stared at her plate, unable to meet the Elf's penetrating gaze. _They're probably the best of friends, and Legolas has told me not to mince words, but let's at least try being tactful. _"Haldir is really helpful and informative, isn't he?"

"He's boring you, isn't he?"

"Only a little," she admitted. Off of the Elf's instantly incredulous look, Ivy blurted, "Okay, he's boring me _a lot_. Are you still studying for the meeting?"

"I am." Stretching like a cat, Legolas braced his long legs before the fire. Ivy watched with a carefully concealed artist's lust as the Elf's chest and thigh muscles flexed. Her fingers itched for drawing paper and a soft pencil.

Yawning, the Elf shifted to slouch across the chair. "The more I read, the more there is left for me to read before tomorrow. I'm sure Haldir adds to the papers while I'm not looking. Are you nervous about meeting everyone tonight?"

"Terrified."

"They won't hurt you," Legolas reassured. "It will all be very civilized."

"I don't know anything about your world's manners. What if I do something wrong or say something offensive?"

"You won't. You'll be lucky if you can get a word in, as most members of our board are happy commanding center stage. Let them do all the talking until you find your feet. They're all very good at it."

She grimaced. "I'll likely just hide behind you."

"I'm sorry, Ivy, but I won't be in attendance tonight." His blue eyes held genuine regret. "There is much more for me to review if I'm to be well-prepared for this meeting."

Her anxiety increased tenfold at that revelation. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Unfortunately, no. Though I thank you for wanting to." Discarding the latest folder onto the nearest pile, Legolas contemplated the fire. Ivy thought the haunted look in his eyes made him look every bit his age.

_Why do I get the feeling he's about as eager as I am to interact with these people? _Ivy thought. _He looks so lost, I wish I could fix whatever's wrong. I don't even know what the problem is, so how could I reassure him everything will be all right?_

"You're staring," the Elf said. "Again."

"I'm sorry. You're...um...eminently stareable."

He offered the wisp of a smile in response to her compliment. "At least two board members are sincerely looking forward to seeing you, and your fears will be as nothing once you've met them. The food will also be exquisite. Much is being flown in from Australia this afternoon."

"That sounds expensive."

"We spare no expense."

Ivy shivered instinctively at that response. "Have you seen 'Jurassic Park'?"

"I've not had the pleasure. Should I?"

"Um, no." She remembered too late the Elf's non-exposure to any pop-culture phenomenon over the past fifty years. " Never mind. It's just a silly movie where the park's millionaire philanthropist spares no expense to welcome his guests, and a lot of those guests get eaten."

Legolas' eyebrows climbed. "Eaten?"

"Jurassic Park has some nasty velociraptors and a hungry t-rex, and..." Ivy let her voice trail off. _There's no way to explain this to let it lead anywhere good._

Legolas tilted his head. "You are afraid our board members will eat you alive?"

"That's basically it, yeah." Sighing, she pulled back her hair. "I know I'm not making sense. My mind goes in weird directions when I'm tired."

"Obviously, if you're afraid our board is made up of cannibals." He sounded more amused than irritated, and Ivy was grateful for that. "You really should try getting some rest before tonight."

"I will." A yawn interrupted the rest of her reply. "Even if my room's so cold that my nose felt like an icicle when I woke up this morning."

"How unfortunate. You'll sleep better if I light a fire for you. Come." Rising smoothly to his feet, Legolas headed out of the room. Ivy had no choice but to shove her plate and mug back onto Bridie's trolley before playing catch up - again.

# #

Legolas had the fire already going by the time Ivy reached her room. Still kneeling on the hearth, the Elf rocked back on his heels and glanced up at her. "Did anyone tell you this is traditionally the Queen's Daughter's room? Your mother and grandmother both stayed here."

Ivy winced at the news. "I'm so sorry. It must bring up bad memories for you to be in here."

"Not at all." Having securing the fireplace screen, Legolas got to his feet. "Isabel never let me into her bedroom. Aragorn also stayed here."

"Here?" Ivy squeaked. "In this room? In this bed?"

"Not quite." Going to the window, the Elf pulled back the heavy curtain and gestured for Ivy to join him. "Part of the old house is visible from here. The original Ithilien wing is down there and over a few feet. Aragorn stayed there."

"All I can see are snowy rooftops with more dark clouds coming at us over the loch."

"Very well." Taking Ivy firmly by the shoulders, Legolas stood her in front of him. Tucking her tight against his shoulder, he laid his hand across the small of her back. Leaning close, the Elf stretched out his arm. "Pretend I'm holding a bow and you're the arrow. Look down my arm and use my thumb as the tip of your arrow."

Somewhat surprised at the Elf-handling she was receiving, but entirely willing to go with the flow, Ivy did as she was instructed. Leaning into the Elf to get the right angle, Ivy felt the hard muscles of his thigh and chest tense as Legolas shifted his weight to support her.

_Oh, he's all coiled power and intensity, isn't he? This is even better than watching a stallion dance. Because it's more than watching, isn't it? _Closing one eye, she squinted down the length of Legolas' arm and tried not to tremble at his standing so close to her.

"What do you see?" he demanded, his breath stirring her hair.

"The back of a long stone building."

"Very good." Legolas let his arm drop, but he was still standing so near that Ivy could feel his every inhalation and the heat of his body. "What you are looking at is Ithilien's first wing."

Looking up at him in the weak winter light, she realized how remarkable a blue his eyes truly were, and how flawless his skin but for the shadows deepening beneath his eyes. If she touched his sharp-sculpted cheekbones, she thought she might cut herself. His skin would probably be soft - far softer than any Mortal man's whiskered cheek. And he smelled good.

_He's perfect,_ came the thought. _Even if he is a little skinny._

"The first wing?" she repeated. If she didn't move, maybe she could keep him standing against her and talking.

"Rather than destroying the old house and rebuilding on its foundations," Legolas explained, "we found it easier to simply build a new wing - basically a new house every few centuries - and close up the old one."

It took a moment for Ivy to process this information, as she was absorbed in the way Legolas' chest vibrated against her when he spoke. "Are you saying there's still stuff in the old wings? Stuff that dates clear back to Ithilien?"

"Yes. Whatever wasn't carried into the future remained with the past."

Her mind whirled at the treasures hidden behind the castle walls. "So there could be old books and artifacts and weaponry and tapestries and...what else?"

Legolas gazed out the window, considering. His thumb moved slowly at the small of Ivy's back, and she restrained a shiver. _Is he even aware he's doing that? Don't move,_ she ordered herself,_ else he'll probably stop._

"There is all of that and more," he admitted. "Whatever I could retrieve from Imladris is also there. I remember many books from Elrond's library, a few scribe's desks and some statuary. I believe the statuary found its way into the gardens behind the house. I think the murals depicting the battle of Dagorlad came with us as well."

Ivy gasped. "You have stuff from _Imladris_ here?"

Startled, those wonderfully clear blue eyes met hers again. "Is Imladris important to you?"

"Elrond didn't take everything with him when he left?"

"I do not know what he took, as I was busy with Faramir and Eowyn rebuilding Ithilien when Lord Elrond departed Oversea. I do know he left a great deal behind. The twins couldn't bear abandoning it to the elements, and Aragorn wanted to share with his children what might be salvaged. The twins and I made a trip to gather what we might and transported it here. After Aragorn died--"

"Could I see it?" she interrupted.

Legolas' eyes laughed when he smiled, and his dimples deepened. Ivy didn't even care that he was laughing at her childish eagerness.

"I would enjoy showing it to you. If all goes well tomorrow..." The smile faded abruptly, and the dimples with it. The blond head bowed beneath the burden the Elf had forgotten, if only for a few minutes.

_Damn!_ thought Ivy. _I've reminded him of the big, bad meeting again._

"So, Aragorn stayed with you in Ithilien?" Ivy said quickly - anything to distract the Elf.

"Yes."

"Did the king come to visit often?"

"King Elessar did not, but my friend Aragorn did." The hand at Ivy's back slid to her hip, and Ivy's toes curled at the touch. "Shall we close the curtains and let the room warm?"

The slightest pressure of Legolas' fingers encouraged Ivy to move, and then the Elf's hand was gone. Disappointed, Ivy went to sit on the side of the bed while Legolas closed the curtains. Much to Ivy's surprise, Legolas then came to sit beside her on the bed.

"Shortly after Aragorn and Arwen were married," said Legolas, "he began riding out alone from the White City. I would meet him between Gondor and Ithilien on the night of the full moon. Together, we would inspect some remote part of his kingdom and return here to meet with Faramir. As the years passed, Aragorn made a habit of traveling alone and incognito, so that the ranger would appear at my door whenever he was in need of a break from being king. On those nights, we rode out as of old beneath the stars. Aragorn would tell me his worries, and I would guard his sleep."

Ivy settled back against the headboard. "What about the queen?"

"Arwen despised any time Aragorn spent away from her, but knew she could do little about it. She had gotten what she wanted - he had gained a kingdom, made her his queen and the mother of his heirs. He expected Arwen to content herself with that and to leave him to order his life as he willed."

Sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, Legolas began plucking at stray threads in the ornate quilt. "Aragorn held private meetings here because there were less eavesdroppers - no courtiers and no counselors unless he brought them, and far less demands upon him than in Gondor. In our humble rooms, he held councils with Faramir and Eomer, the Haradrim and others come from beyond his borders. Political matters were resolved, trade matters were developed and finalized without Gondor's stuffy privy council in attendance - much to the grand vizier's dismay and very vocal disapproval back in the White City."

The Elf fell silent. Ivy tried not breathe and hoped he would continue.

"I made everyone welcome in Ithilien," said Legolas, "and Aragorn was as free to come and go as the rest of them. He treated my home as though it were his own, and my people treated him as one of their own. He walked the streets freely, and I have reason to believe he cherished that freedom. Aragorn wearied of ruling Gondor and Arnor, yet in him they had a wise ruler. I miss him."

"What do you miss about him?" Ivy asked quietly.

"All of him." Legolas left off picking at the innocent quilt. "His friendship and his trust. His direct way of speaking and how he waded fearlessly into each fight - oftentimes failing to wait for me to guard his back. I was forever terrified of being separated from him in battle, of losing him forever to the Uruk-hai. In waking dreams, I hear him call my name and his wicked laugh. He argued as of old with me at times through the long darkness in Alaska."

"I wonder if I'll ever having waking dreams," said Ivy, once it was clear Legolas was done with his reminiscing.

The Elf gave a wistful smile. "You must first live long enough for your memories to become both a comfort and a burden."

Ivy bristled inwardly and bit back a retort until she remembered how old Legolas was and all he had accomplished, and the fact that every Queen's Daughter except her and her mother were dead. "I must seem very young to you."

"Yes, but that is not necessarily a bad thing, Ivy. The years will pass quickly enough for you, as they do for all of us." Legolas tilted his head. "I saw some of your artwork last night on the Internet."

Once again the Elf's abrupt change of subject startled her, but Ivy tried to go with the flow. "Which piece?"

"The one you called Shadowfax. I found him...memorable."

She felt herself color. "You liked him? Really?"

"He is quite himself." The Elf's blue eyes were sincere. "You have a rare gift for making a viewer feel he is in communion with the subject of your painting."

"It's important to me that my work touches people," she said quietly.

Legolas nodded. "I would like to see something of your work beyond a computer screen. Where do you exhibit?"

"I've shown at a few Arabian horse shows, and there's a cybershop at The Artist's Café for greeting cards and posters - that's a print-on-demand thing." She all but stammered her reply, astonished he was asking. _I hope it's not only out of politeness. _"My originals are up at the Start Something gallery in San Francisco, but the biggest thing I've done so far is an Arabian horse mural called 'Flight of Princes' for The Egyptian resort in Las Vegas."

Legolas leaned forward. "A mural? Like Lord Elrond's own?"

"I wish." Ivy made a face. "I'm sure my work is nowhere as good as his was. The Egyptian Resort sponsors an Arabian distance race every fall. I entered some preliminary drawings in this year's racing program competition, and the owners commissioned me to do a wall mural inside their hotel. I spent all of last summer on it, worrying that they'd pay me for my work only to paint over it and get someone else in who'd do a better job. But it's stayed up so far, and there are photos to prove it in my website gallery."

"I will look for it...how is it said?...online. When next I travel to Las Vegas, I will ask Haldir to book my room at The Egyptian and see it for myself." A sudden despair filled the Elf's eyes, every bit as revealing to Ivy as the horses she drew. "If I ever again travel for..."

Shaking himself, Legolas recovered so quickly that Ivy almost doubted what she knew she'd seen. Sliding off of the bed, the Elf said, "I believe your room is warm enough now. I should leave you to sleep."

Turning, the Elf headed with all speed for the door, only to hesitate at the threshold. "If things become unruly tonight, or if someone frightens you badly, ask Haldir to come get me. I am your protector, after all."

He didn't wait for her response before slipping out.

_So even if Legolas isn't right there tonight, he's still near by. _She smiled to herself. _That makes me feel a hundred times better._


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Haldir scowled at the white 747 cargo-jet circling the loch. Barely visible against the storm clouds, it carried two Elven lords who had always made the marchwarden nervous whenever he encountered them, whether in Lothlórien or elsewhere. The third Elf aboard had always been merely annoying. Nothing had changed in three thousand years.

Clapping his hands over his ears, Haldir endured as the plane roared in for a perfect landing on the wet runway. Gritting his teeth against the vibration, the Elf remembered when the cargo plane's owner had called some two years before to warn that Lairg's runway would have to be lengthened specifically to accommodate the long-range 747's take-off and landing requirements. Loch water would supply a boiler to be installed in the hangar, which would be heated in winter. The hot water would then be pumped beneath the tarmac to keep the runway clear of ice. Haldir had seen to it immediately, of course.

_I'd never hear the end of it, were the great Lords Elrond and Glorfindel and their plane were to slide into the loch,_ thought Haldir.

The runway had been lengthened in record time and at great expense because Haldir hadn't wanted to be asked twice. _I cannot wait to inform Legolas how many pounds sterling were siphoned from his personal account to satisfy Elrond's desire to transport our yearlings to New South Wales every December. I'm not even certain Legolas is aware his little horses are still being taken._

The 747 rolled to a stop. The side door was pushed back as Alastair dutifully drove up with the off-loader, ready to transport passengers and provisions. Elrond and Glorfindel stepped out and rode it to the ground, while Erestor remained on board to greet the Scot when he took the platform back up.

The marchwarden offered a formal bow. "Welcome to Lairg, gentlemen."

"Haldir." Elrond nodded in acknowledgement before heading with all dignified speed for shelter of the Range Rover. "Has Ivy arrived?"

Glorfindel paced close on his heels. "By all of the little gods, you never stopped talking about her on the flight over, and we've not been on the ground ten minutes before you're demanding to know if she's here. Obsessed much?"

_And so it begins between them. Again,_ thought Haldir_. I haven't missed hearing this in the six months since our last meeting. _Sliding behind the wheel once more, Haldir schooled himself to patience. "Queen's Daughter arrived last night and spent the morning reviewing things with me. I believe she is taking a well-deserved nap this afternoon, but Legolas is in my library and looking forward to discussing--"

"I want to see her."

Haldir guided the Range Rover down the rough road leading up to the house. "She may be asleep."

"I want to see her."

"Of course you do," said Glorfindel from the back seat. "Because you're intractable and obstinate, and you can't conceive that she might think you're crazy as a wet snake and tell you to rack off if you invade her bedroom. Never mind we're all total strangers to her."

"I will see her."

"As you wish," Haldir said smoothly.

"As you wish," Glorfindel mocked, "because we all know there's absolutely no arguing with you in times like this, when you've gone off your trolley."

# #

Wrapping lightly on the door, Elrond barely gave the room's occupant enough time to answer before deciding she wasn't going to. With a quiet click, the doorknob turned beneath his hand. The room was dark beyond the door. and sensitive Elven hearing said someone inside was breathing deep and slow, but otherwise there was no movement.

"Ivy?"

She didn't hear him, and so Elrond dared to slip inside. Surely the thick carpeting would muffle his footsteps, and he would not disturb her sleep or frighten her with his looming presence? The Elf-lord had no wish to frighten her. He wanted only to assure himself she was finally within the circle of his protection. No matter what warnings Glorfindel might issue, surely Elrond was allowed to stand at the side of Ivy's bed and finally see, in the flesh, the child he'd wondered after and worried about from the moment of her birth?

He couldn't help feel a bit desperate, as he hadn't had a reliable report on her in over five years. The ubiquitous school photos begged from her grandfather, along with the odd assortment of stealthy candids her watchers had managed to obtain, had done little but frustrate Elrond. Marian's efforts to keep her daughter away from all Elven influence had been too successful: thousands of miles had always lain between Elrond and the latest Queen's Daughter.

The first photo he'd managed to obtain was from an Elven watcher who'd managed to snap, through the nursery glass, a shot of newborn Ivy in her hospital bassinet. Next came the image of a grinning six-year-old imp with her hair in pigtails, a sprinkling of freckles across her nose, and no front teeth.

The only time he'd heard the child speak was on a video tape her grandfather had bullied Ivy into making 'for Santa Claus' at the age of eleven. She'd asked Santa for a pony and a training bra and please, could she also get her period because all of the other girls already had? Thanks very much, and anyway making a tape like this was stupid because Santa Claus didn't exist, and hey Mom, if you're listening she really, REALLY wanted that bra, and Grandpa, if you're listening turn off the tape NOW because she was talking girl stuff.

Ivy had been all smiles and frozen tears in the next photo, a year older and standing in the Montana snow, clutching her new pony's lead shank. 'She believes in Santa now," grandfather Cameron had scrawled on the back of the photo. "If she changes her mind, I've already threatened to send back the pony.'

Next had come the long-legged, unfinished sixteen-year-old, leaping gracelessly up the stairs outside the San Francisco house as she raced home from school. That photo and the few others following it had been smudged, for Ivy had been in constant motion as a teenager. Elrond had requested close-ups as the girl was maturing, but the Elven watchers he'd assigned said that the girl hurried through her days with her head down, as if she feared to look the world in its eye, so obtaining close-ups was impossible.

The last photo had provided the Elf-lord only a crumb of what he wanted - a look inside Ivy's life, however brief. Someone had managed to get a shot of her straddling a potter's wheel during one of her art labs at university. She had clay smeared across her cheek and halfway up her arms. Her apron was soaked where she bent over the wheel, and she worried her lower lip while she fought to keep a gray glob centered between her hands on the spinning platform.

With such sparse glimpses into her life, Elrond had no idea how she was maturing or who they would be welcoming at their latest board meeting. At twenty-four, was Ivy more child than adult? Was the Queen's Madness lurking to create problems for them all, as it had in her grandmother? Would Ivy refuse to be involved in any way with Elrond, as her mother had done?

The Elf-lord had wanted to introduce himself properly and away from the others before the evening's gathering. Ivy lay so close, yet still so far away from him, curled up and fast asleep beneath a mountain of covers. Perhaps he could catch a glimpse of her face if lifted the covers...but _what_ was that smell?

Stepping closer, Elrond ran a hand lightly over the top coverlet, only to discover it was stiff-furred rather than quilted. Leaning closer, he sniffed, only to retreat abruptly and suppress a sneeze.

_She sleeps beneath a rancid bearskin?_ Blinking through watering eyes as the stench grew stronger to his sensitive Elven senses, Elrond dared another look. Ivy's face was buried beneath the covers, well away from the coat itself.

_Wise child. No doubt she is trying to keep warm. How else am I to understand her snuggling beneath a stinking fur coat that no doubt belongs to Legolas? Which means they have at least met? _Elrond glanced at the dying fire. _With all of the millions at his command, I will never understand why that Elf refuses to install central heating in this behemoth. _

Elrond could see little but the top of his quarry's head, which simply would not do. Brushing aside the coat, he dared to lift the covers a little, to peer within.

Her unruly hair was red and naturally waved, no doubt part of her inheritance back to the sons of Feanor through Galadriel's line. Elrond had been told Ivy hated the color as well as the freckles sprinkled across her nose. Everything else to do with her was left to the Elf-lord's frustrated imagination.

_I have imagined far too much to do with her over the years,_ Elrond thought. _I am impatient for the reality, though it may prove less than satisfactory._

Ivy stretched beneath the covers, startling Elrond. Her fingers clutched the bedclothes close against the chill of the room, and the Elf-lord was startled to see that her hands were clean, right down to the short, gnawed fingernails. Elven watchers lurking on campus had relayed that the child's digits were perpetually stained with gouache and oil paints. some sniffy observers had hinted the stains were a sign of her ineptitude rather than her artistic talent.

Daring to lay a hand on Ivy's head, Elrond held his breath. _What lies in store for you, my daughter of time? And how many other Queen's Daughters have I watched sleeping like this? How many of your forebears have I met throughout the draining centuries, only to lose them to death? _

_You and I will meet soon. For now, it must be enough that you are finally here, safe beneath this roof and within our protection. _

Elrond dared tuck in the blankets around Ivy before adding another log to the dying fire and seeing himself quietly out. _This one will be warm and safe and sane, and she will live. Somehow, I will see to it. _


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Ivy awoke to the sound of muffled voices in the hallway beyond her bedroom door. Disoriented in the dark room, she didn't know where she was for a minute. When memory returned, so did the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. _Is this what people felt in the Dark Ages when they were about to face the Inquisition?_

She took the time to take another shower and washed her hair, regardless she didn't have a hair dryer that would take Scotland's electric current, and that she'd have to spend extra time letting it dry before the fire. Extra time meant extra anxiety, but Ivy wanted to at least try looking her best.

With her face scrubbed and her hair half-dry, she was ready as she'd ever be with scarcely fifteen minutes left before Haldir's threatened 8:30 p.m. deadline. Not for the first time, Ivy wished she had taken the time at some point to let some salesclerk in Nordstrom's or Macy's show her how to apply makeup. She wished she could have been one of those confident beauties worthy of modeling for Victoria's Secret who appeared secure in their own skin with the millions they earned.

But wishing didn't make it so, and she'd never been able to afford trying to camouflage her lack of assets. No subtle makeup job, hundred-dollar haircut, or expensive clothing could improve her flaming hair, flat chest and skinny body, so she'd long stopped dreaming.

_I'd rather buy canvas, illo board and paints, anyway. I'm an artinista, not a fashionista,_ she thought, sticking her tongue out at her own reflection. The Elven contingent waiting below would have to be satisfied with the new Queen's Daughter appearing in clean jeans and a brown sweater that had been bought for warmth and comfort. _At least they won't be able to accuse me of being a mule in horse harness._

~ # ~ # ~

Skulking out of her room and down the stairs, Ivy found the ground floor deserted. Heading down the long corridor as Haldir had instructed, she found herself intrigued by the series of closed doors she encountered. One stood open and darkness beckoned beyond it, but Ivy's curiosity got the better of her anyway.

Stepping inside the room, she thought she could see a glimmer of gold amid the gloom. Groping for a lightswitch, she found a dial and cautiously pushed it. Crystal and gold chandeliers instantly brightened overhead.

"Oh, yuck," Ivy gasped at nightmare revealed beneath the lights.

Someone had taken a starkly beautiful medieval hall where form religiously followed function and absolutely ruined it with rococo. Frantic, Ivy dialed down the lighting, but Ballroom d'Tacky was not to be denied. The once-bare walls had been covered with stucco painted a muddy pink pastel and then decorated with an excess of interwoven gold-leaf scrollwork. Gold-dipped winged cherubs with tiny penises danced amid a gilded forest above the chandeliers. Soft and pretty and chubby, they flittered across the ceiling and guarded blood-red curtains at the French doors leading outside.

_They look so embarrassed,_ Ivy thought, stepping further into the room. _This room looks so embarrassed. Has Legolas seen this?_ Ivy shuddered at the thought that the Elf may have welcomed it at some point. _Bouchardon had nothing to do with this room._

Fascinated in a nauseated sort of way, Ivy examined the ornate walls and stared up at the ceiling, only to be alarmed at the number of cracks running across both. Some of those cracks outlined large squares, and some of those squares were buckling.

_That doesn't look good._ All too aware she was trespassing where she probably shouldn't, Ivy backed out of the room and turned out the lights once more. Darkness, she decided, was definitely a blessing in this case. She also decided it might be wise if she looked for the dining hall Haldir had described rather than exploring any more of the castle on her own. _Remember Pandora and Bluebeard's wife? _

She found the dining hall where Haldir had indicated it would be, and was surprised at the quiet murmur of voices within. _I guess it's true, Americans are much more noisy._

Her steps slowed as she approached the door. _Do you think they'd let me steal a plate full of food and run back upstairs with it? There's no real need for introductions tonight, right?_

Getting into the room proved to be a problem, never mind stealing a plate, for a tall, broad-shouldered Elf was standing with his back to the hall and blocking Ivy's way while conversing with someone inside the room. Hovering at the door, Ivy knew she was gawking but couldn't help herself.

_He's in robes!_ she shrieked inwardly. _Real Elven robes and not some New Zealand costume knock-off!_

_Come to it, _another part of her mind pointed out, _those robes look a lot like the ones featured in the movies. Flowing, raw black silk and a high collar, wide, cuffed sleeves with elaborate silver piping, all fit for Elvish royalty. It must have taken forever for his tailor or seamstress to finish._

The Elf said something in Sindarin, his voice low and authoritative. His waist-length hair flowed like a black waterfall when he leaned down to catch his companion's reply, and Ivy caught sight of more intricate silver embroidery beneath the Elf's hair, on the back of the robes.

_He is magnificent, and didn't Haldir say this affair wasn't formal?_ Glancing down at her brown sweater and jeans, Ivy felt more than a little inferior. Not wanting to be caught staring - to be caught loitering would be bad enough - Ivy retreated to a wooden bench that was holding court with a grandfather clock across from the door to the dining hall. Sinking onto the bench, she resigned herself to waiting for the impressive Elf to clear the doorway.

A few seconds later, someone slid the length of the bench and into Ivy. A wiry thigh shoved against hers, long fingers death-gripped her arm. Startled, she reared back to get a better look at the male Elf who had a shock of shoulder-length black hair, earnest grey eyes, and a wide grin.

"Hello, Ivy," he purred.

"Who was it who said, 'I don't know who you are, but your manner is familiar'?" she muttered, trying to gain some distance from him and failing on the small bench.

"I've no idea, but really it's not important. Your mum told me _so_ much, I feel as if I already know you. I'm Julien, and we're going to be great friends."

"Really." Ivy's voice held no great enthusiasm.

"I'm so happy to finally meet you," he whispered, as if finding her was a great secret that shouldn't be shared. Darting a glance at the dining hall and looking both ways down the hall, the Elf grabbed Ivy's hand and tucked it tightly against his chest. "You and I need to have a chat."

"About what?"

"The meeting, of course."

His grip was tight, his aura cloying and suffocating like no other Ivy had ever encountered. She tried pulling free her arm, but Julien only tightened his grip.

"Come now, there's no time to be lost." He sounded unctuous, as if she had no choice but to fall in with his plans.

Panic rose as Ivy realized Julien had no intention of letting her go until he'd gotten exactly what he wanted. "I don't want to go with you."

"Of course you do." He was all smooth smiles and insistent muscle. "I've been trying to contact your mother for days and days. We could have saved so much time if only Marian had told me you were coming in her place." Getting to his feet, Julien dragged Ivy upward as well. "Come with me now into the receiving room."

"I'd rather not." Dragging back against his strength, Ivy fought to stay on the bench. "Whatever you have to say, say it here."

Shoving his face close to hers, Julien glowered. "Don't be a child. We need to talk in private."

"I said no. Now let go of my arm!"

"Don't you dare be difficult with me, Ivy MacLeod."

"Don't I _what_?" Her alarm was giving way to anger. "Who the hell do you think you are, grabbing me like this?"

He all but rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Your mother always--"

"I've got some news for you, Julien whatever-your-name-is. My mother's not here, and I'm not her."

His expression darkened suddenly, his lip curled in a sneer. His grip tightened enough to bruise. "You are coming with me now."

_If every Elf wears his emotions on his face, I think I'm seeing contempt, _she thought, twisting frantically to get free. Every instinct shouted that she shouldn't let him get her alone, but there was a sinewy, tensile strength to this Elf that would not yield. So she added a kick to his shin and raised her voice.

"Let go of me!"

He gasped as her booted foot made sharp contact. "Why, you little--"

"Julien," a new voice intruded, carrying its own warning.

Ivy was instantly released, only to find herself thrown roughly backward. Landing awkwardly on the edge of the bench, she was startled to realize Julien had succeeded in dragging her some distance away from it. As for the slender Elf, he cast Ivy a look of resentment and fear. Scuttling down the hallway, he disappeared into the shadows beyond.

"Yeah!" she called out, but it came out more like a croak. "Keep going!"

Relieved she was finally free, Ivy straightened on the bench and rubbing her injured arm. Staring up at the Elf who'd come to her rescue, she recognized him as the wearer of the robes she'd admired so much earlier. If anything, his robes were even more beautiful from the front.

"Did he hurt you?"

"No. I'm fine," she answered automatically, regardless her arm felt mauled._ No wonder Mom warned me to be careful, and what's this new one going to do to me?_

Julien's overbearing attitude was reminiscent of a cockroach, while Legolas' mercurial moods reminded her of a proud stallion quick to fight and determined to protect his own. Ivy thought Mirkwood's warrior-Elf was constantly in motion - mentally if not physically - but the barrel-chested Elf looking down at her now was all grounded power, solemnity and regal stillness. This one felt like a long-mature, experienced lion; the ruler of all he surveyed, and his word was law. He even had a black mane of hair that remind Ivy specifically of a South African Cape Lion she once drawn from a safari photo. No wonder a single growl from this Elf had sent Julien scuttling off into the shadows.

_If I couldn't fight off scrawny Julien, I haven't a prayer against this one,_ Ivy realized. _If he wants me somewhere, he'll just pick me up and carry me there. _

"Thanks for the rescue," she whispered, still nursing her arm as it throbbed.

"You are most welcome."

Pushing back his robes, the Elf sank down to kneel before Ivy. Shrinking away, she calmed when she realized he was moving slowly and being careful to leave some distance between them. Clearly, he was offering time and space for her to escape, should she feel the need. The Elf brought himself down to her level, and Ivy fell into storm-blue eyes that seemed to hold both sorrow and fury. Tiny laugh lines spread from the corners of his eyes, but he wasn't laughing now. Far from it.

_Who is he?_ she wondered.

"I am a healer. I will not hurt you," he murmured, seeming to answer her unvoiced question. "I wish only to make certain you have come to no harm." He laid a hand over hers, and Ivy surprised herself by letting him. "You are trembling."

"He scared me."

"Allow me to apologize for Julien's aberrant behavior. I would have you know he is not like the rest of us."

"No?" Ivy arched an eyebrow. "What makes him so different?"

"Julien was born and raised in the Mortal world - specifically late Victorian London, during the era of the Decadents." With great care, the Elf cradled Ivy's arm between both his hands to begin examining it.

"His parents passed Oversea a few years ago," the Elf continued, "leaving director's seats to him and his sister. Wendy is happy to entertain herself with the many distractions the Mortal world has to offer. Julien, however, believes everyone has their price, and that he has only to find and pay it in order to own a person."

"I'm not for sale." _Even if I do feel scared to death and completely out of my depth. _

"Of that, I have no doubt." His voice was low and soothing, his touch surprisingly gentle yet thorough. "Julien has dared to hurt you and will not be allowed near you again. I also have something in my room that will help with the bruises I see forming. I will bring it down to you."

"How did you do it?" Ivy asked, effectively stopping the Elf as he gathered his robes and made to stand.

"Do what, my dear?"

"Send Julien off with his tail between his legs, just by speaking his name."

"We have encountered each other in the past, and he knows it's best not to cross me." His gaze searched hers. "You will come to no further harm this night, I promise you. I'm sure it's been a long time since luncheon, and you must have come down for the buffet. Would you like something to eat?"

Ivy shook her head and glanced down the hall as if to reassure herself Julien wasn't sneaking back. "I don't think I could eat anything right now."

"I am truly sorry then, for Erestor has surpassed himself with the bounty he's provided for us tonight."

She completely forgot Julien. "Erestor's here?"

"Of course. He comes with us from Australia every Solstice, to cook for us and ensure we are not subjected to the local food."

She wrinkled her nose. "To save you from the porridge, you mean?"

"Don't tell me Bridie subjected you to that ghastly mess? You should have been treated to the finest meals this castle's larder had to offer - not to that frightful concoction of oatmeal mixed with turnip juice."

"I'm not sure what was in it," Ivy admitted, "because I gave up on the first glomping spoonful this morning. I think I upset her by sleeping in."

The Elf's grey eyes were concerned. "It sounds as if your days have been nothing but misery and ashes since your mother told you of our existence. I understand how upset you must be after Julien's lack of manners, so that the last thing you want to do now is meet others of our group. I must warn you, however, that those within the dining hall will shortly become curious and venture out here. Might I therefore coax you into the kitchen, or into Haldir's receiving room where you need not encounter them, and we might continue our conversation in private?"

She'd received an invitation to go off alone with an Elf not ten minutes before, and from a much less impressive source. Her instincts then had clamored for her to refuse the invitation. She listened to those same instincts now, but they only whispered that this powerfully built Elf was safe to be with. _How weird is it that I feel as if nothing bad could ever happen when he is near?_

Still, reason dictated she not go mincing off with him immediately, so Ivy racked her brain for some bit of conversation to delay what may have been inevitable. "Australia!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You said Erestor comes with you from Australia. So he must be the one Haldir said stays in the kitchen. Which means you're either Elden or Gordon."

"Elden or - did Haldir not tell you our Elven names?"

She shook her head. "I got a sheet of paper with your names in English, and something about the meetings were in English because of corporate minute requirements, blah blah...I'm sorry, but he was putting me to sleep."

"Haldir can have that effect, yes. Very well. I am Elden." He turned, still kneeling before her, and gestured back at the dining hall. "If you lean over a bit and look just through there, you'll see Gordon - otherwise known as Glorfindel - leaning against the wall next to the fireplace. He is also from Australia."

"That's Glorfindel?" she squeaked.

"It is."

"The real Glorfindel?"

"There is only one Glorfindel, thankfully. I don't think we could live with two of them."

"Why does he look like Legolas? Or do all blonde Elves look alike?"

"They do not. But the resemblance between father and son is remarkable, I think you'll agree."

She broke off staring at Glorfindel to stare at Elden. "Legolas has a son?"

Elden laughed outright at that question, which made Ivy stare even harder. _Do all Elves look entirely different when they laugh? she wondered. This one looks positively mephistophelean. I need to remember that look and sketch it later. _

"Legolas is Glorfindel's son."

"What, huh?" That, along with a double-take at the Glorfindel in question, was all Ivy could manage as a reply.

"That wasn't in the books you read when you were younger?" Elden asked, all innocence.

"Um, no. What happened to Thranduil?"

"Nothing happened to him," said Elden. "As far as I know, he is still Oversea."

"He's not Legolas' father?"

"No. Though his queen was Legolas' mother. She is also Oversea. Am I confusing you?"

"You're giving me a headache. So Tolkien was wrong?"

"Not wrong, precisely. The books offer a great many inconsistencies, but the story of Legolas' conception and birth is one you should hear from his father, rather than from me. Suffice it to say that the Valar work in mysterious ways, and Julien did not tell the professor everything. Which I am certain is only because no one tells Julien everything. He has very little interest in Elven history."

"So Erestor's in the kitchen and Glorfindel's in the dining hall. Who's in the drawing room with Colonel Mustard?"

"I assure you there is no Elf of any age with a name like that," Elden deadpanned, but Ivy caught more than a glimmer of humor in his eyes.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she challenged.

"I must admit that I am, for I have waited a great many years to finally meet you."

"Why in the world would you want to meet me? Is it the Queen's Daughter thing?"

"Given that I am the queen's father, that is certainly part of it."

She stared at Elden, who stared patiently back, undoubtedly waiting for her to either connect the dots or ask another question. Ivy's mind did more than connect the dots; it exploded with the realization of who, exactly, she was talking to.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"Oh, dear God, you have to get up." Ivy's hands captured his and yanked.

"My dear--"

"You're Elven _royalty_, you can't let anybody see you kneeling at my feet. They'll kill me!"

He was immovable as a mountain. "They most certainly will not. They might be mildly curious, but--"

"No, they'll want to kill me. I'm the hated Isabel's grand-daughter, and you're an Elf-lord--"

"I am just an Elf, Ivy. Nothing more."

"You're _Lord Elrond, _you're like a king."

"I am not a king."

"Only because you wouldn't let them make you one back in Imladris. In any case, and no matter how much you argue, you're certainly more than just an Elf." Yank and tug as she might at his robes, he wasn't moving in the slightest. "_Please_ get up, your kneeling there just isn't right."

His hands caught hers and held on tight, halting her efforts. "Ivy, it is all right."

Staring at those hands, so broad and strong and easily engulfing her own slender fingers, she muttered, "I should have known it was you. Nobody else would wear robes like that. I mean, even Glorfindel's in jeans, and the black mane's a dead giveaway, too."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Look at your hands! They're so big, so of course they could handle a broadsword at Dagorlad, and you had the ring--"

"I had _a_ ring, my daughter. Not _the_ ring."

"Right. But you got your ring from Gil-Galad, and you built Imladris and kept everybody safe--"

"Allow me to point out Imladris was built before I was given Vilya." He sounded as if he just might laugh at her again.

Ivy didn't care. The butterflies in her stomach were back, but this time they were good butterflies. _If he's here, things might be all right after all in this house of mirrors. _"No wonder I've been feeling as if nothing bad could ever happen to me as long as I'm with you. You're _Elrond._"

"I am. And you are Queen's Daughter, and people are starting to notice we are out in this hallway, talking without them. We will be descended upon in a matter of seconds."

"Then go!" she hissed. "Get up off of the floor!"

"I will get up only if you agree to accompany me elsewhere."

"Fine, whatever!" She leaped to her feet. "Just _please_ get up off of your knees."

Elrond flowed upward to tower over Ivy.

"I was only on one knee, actually." Sliding an arm about her waist, the Elf-lord tugged her close to his side. "Make haste, for they are coming. No doubt Glorfindel heard his name and is leading the pack. He has an uncanny ability to locate any conversation of interest."

Ivy trotted beside the Elf-lord down the hall, hoping she didn't tear his robes as they tangled about her legs. The shadows at the far end swallowed them as they had Julien, but Elrond halted and took Ivy's hand before reaching the staircase leading to the second floor.

"This way," he announced, making a sharp right and guiding Ivy into a room next to the front door. "I will leave the door open to reassure you, but we still need some light."

Elrond found the lights as voices followed them around the corner. _Forget reassurance,_ Ivy thought._ This is Elrond. I trust him, and I want to be alone with him._

Shoving the door closed, she whirled to join the Elf-lord, only to stop dead as she had in the ballroom.

"Oh, no," she moaned. "The infection's in here, too."

"You've seen the ballroom, then?" Elrond moved further into the room and beneath a flickering chandelier that was so deeply encrusted with scrollwork that the faux-flames had to compete for attention with mountains of twisted gold.

"Seen the ballroom?" Ivy repeated. "I backed out of it."

"That is well, as the walls and ceiling are beginning to buckle. I barely escaped being hit by a decaying forest of falling gold leaves when last I was in there."

The Elf-lord settled on a couch near the fireplace. Its gilded ornamentation was interwoven so tightly, Ivy thought the piece would fall apart without it.

Elrond gestured grandly as Ivy hovered near the door. "Welcome to Halden Greenwood's receiving room."

"It looks like a wedding cake gone terribly wrong." Feeling visually overwhelmed, Ivy went to join Elrond on the couch. "As if King Midas and the Winter Queen battled it out in here, and they both lost." Taking the other end of the couch, Ivy sat on one leg and turned toward the Elf-lord. "Should I have locked the door to keep everyone out?"

"No one will dare intrude - I am Lord Elrond, after all - and I trust the cherubs won't reproduce while we're watching." His hand covered hers where it lay across the back of the couch. "Let us begin again, and let me welcome you properly. I have wanted to meet you for a very long time, Ivy MacLeod, but your mother wouldn't allow it."

"Because you're Elrond, and the queen's father?" she asked quietly.

"Because I am _your_ father."

Closing her eyes against the headache that was starting behind her eyes, she shook her head. "That's impossible. My father owned a travel agency in Phoenix."

Elrond did not respond, and Ivy forced herself to open her eyes, to confront him and the hideous room once more.

"Are you saying that you and my mother..." _Don't make me finish that sentence. I can't finish that sentence._

"No, of course not," Elrond said quickly. "I should explain that Elves have a habit of condensing the generations. Arwen is my daughter and your fore-mother. That makes you my daughter as well."

"You mean, according to Elven tradition, I'm part of your family or something?"

"You are very much a part of my family."

The open sincerity in his grey eyes - so wise and kind - was her undoing. Much to Ivy's dismay, she burst into tears.

"My dear...I have no wish to make you cry. If you do not want me to consider myself your father--"

"I do! It's just--" She choked. "It's...let me get used to this because it's been a really bizarre, rough week." She swiped away her tears and wished the thickness in her throat would dissolve. "When I read _Lord of the Rings, _I wanted more than anything to go to Imladris and meet you and hide in your library forever. I wished you were real."

"Please, Ivy, come here." Elrond opened his arms, and she dove into them immediately like an overwrought child.

"If you were anybody else, I wouldn't be doing this," she said through her tears. "I'm getting your beautiful robes all wet."

"I do not care about my robes." Tucking her beneath his chin, Elrond stroked her hair. "I assure you that I am real. My library is also real, if you'd care to come see it. Imladris may be gone, but I have another home now in New South Wales. I would be most happy if you would join me there."

Rather than reply immediately, Ivy tried to regain control of her emotions, which were tumbling between disbelief, exhaustion, and relief.

_What's wrong with me?_ she wondered. _Just because I've been thrown down the well into a scary, confusing Elvish Wonderland and been told I'm immortal, and am all jetlagged, and have been assaulted by a renegade Elf and rescued by the Lord of Imladris himself who's insisting he's my new Dad...that's no excuse for me to cry all over him. _

"It's quite all right to cry. You've been under a great deal of stress these last few days."

_There he goes again, practically reading my mind, _she thought and pressed closer, the better to feel the Elf-lord's deep voice rumbling against her. _Haldir probably told him everything, but that's okay, because Elrond really does feel big and paternal -protective - like Grandpa used to, and what I've always imagined my own father would have felt like if I could remember him. _

Sniffling, she took the handkerchief the Elf-lord produced from somewhere. _Has he got pockets in his robes? _"Do you have books in Elvish?"

"Many of them, yes."

"I probably can't read them," Ivy said sadly, wiping her eyes. "Legolas told me to forget everything I thought I knew about Elvish."

"That was certainly rude of him. I am certain your Sindarin isn't as bad as he's made you believe it is."

"I don't know anything about your history, except for the Tolkien books."

"No matter. I still have the old primers used in Imladris to teach my sons and other little Elves their letters, and I am certainly qualified to teach you our histories if you like."

She leaned away from him, the better to gauge his expression. "Are you serious or just being polite?"

"Quite serious."

She chewed her lip. "I don't know what to say."

"Then say yes, and come home with me after the meeting."

Still hesitating, Ivy shifted away from the Elf-lord and sat up to blow her nose. Elrond seemed not to mind at all.

"You know there is a story told in Wales," he said, "not far from where Imladris once lay, of a Mortal farmer who befriended one of the Tylwyth Teg - the Fair People, the Other Ones of Welsh lore. When the farmer admitted to wanting to see the homeland of the Tylwyth, which was normally invisible to Mortals, the Fair One invited the farmer to place his foot atop the other's. The farmer did so. Immediately and by virtue of their contact, an unsuspected world was revealed deep in a chasm in the ground the man's feet, with all its crowded byways and fertile fields, its smoking chimneys and gleaming rivers winding to the sea."

The Elf-lord's gaze was intense, holding hers. "You have as much right to see that land and live in it as I do. If you wish, I will show it to you."

"Okay," she whispered, agreeing because he seemed to want it so very much, and so did she. "I'll go back to Oz with you. But you'll have to tell me how to behave around an Elf-lord so I don't embarrass you. I don't know what do say, or how to show my respect."

"A hug would be nice," Elrond said softly.

She thought he might be teasing, but his expression was entirely hopeful. When he opened his arms, Ivy dove back into them immediately.

"You're going to think I'm totally starved for affection," she whispered, hugging him tightly, "and you'd be right. Oh, please don't let me mess this up."

Elrond had drawn breath - probably to reassure her - when something cracked overhead. Ivy and the Elf-lord both jumped, with Elrond tightening his grip and shielding her as best he could as something crashed very close beside them.

Emerging from Elrond's embrace, Ivy looked down to see that a large chunk of gilding ceiling had fallen beside the couch, while the Elf-lord's thigh was coated with gold-flecked plaster.

Raising his hand, he picked other bits of plaster out of Ivy's hair. "That was far too close."

"Did that lump hit you?" Ivy asked.

"Yes, but I am unharmed."

As if on cue, they both looked up to see cracks framing every junction of the buckling walls and sagging ceiling. Whole chunks of the ceiling were missing, while other jagged pieces swung free.

"Bloody hell," said Elrond.

Ivy did a quick double-take. "I never thought to hear you say that."

"It is a phrase I picked up from Glorfindel, and you won't hear it from me often. Come, we need to get out of this room before it buries us."

She followed him off of the couch and to the side of the room where Elrond began leading the way to the door.

"What's making everything fall apart?" she asked.

"Haldir redecorated in the sixties," said Elrond, "and I suspect the plaster was set onto wooden wall plates rather than onto brick. Over the years, the timber has expanded and contracted with the humidity. There have always been small cracks, but nothing so dangerous as this."

"So the underlying plaster is like an ill-made fresco?" Ivy ventured. "And its weight is making it detach completely from the plates and fall to the floor?"

"Yes. With catastrophic results as you see here and in the ballroom." Opening the door, he ushered her ahead of him.

Ivy was relieved to discover the area was deserted. "You mean the entire ceiling is going to fall?"

"Yes."

"It's all falling down tonight?" she squeaked, wondering if they should alert Haldir.

"I do not know." Elrond finished shaking his robes free of the gold glitter that now lay sparkling against the green leaf carpeting. "Have you regained a bit of your appetite now, and might you be willing to move our conversation into the kitchen? Haldir's plasterwork did not reach there."

"The kitchen sounds good. Smells good, too," she added after inhaling deeply. _Beef and Elf Lord, what a glorious combination of scents. _Giving him a hesitant smile, she dared to take the arm he offered to escort her down the hall.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

"Erestor, I'd like you to meet Ivy." Standing just inside the kitchen door, Elrond laid his hands across her shoulders. His hands radiated heat, even through the heavy sweater she wore.

Standing at the sink and not turning around, Erestor reached for a towel and took his time drying his hands. His long black hair was pulled back and trapped in a single, long braid down his back, no doubt to keep his hair from interfering with his work. When Erestor deigned to turn and face them, his storm-grey eyes bore into Ivy with cool precision.

_He looks more suited to appraising priceless antiquities than being a chef,_ she thought, trying not to squirm under that unsmiling gaze.

"Hello, Ivy."

"Hi. I'm happy to meet you." Feeling a bit anxious, she leaned back against Elrond. Casting about for something - anything - to say, she blurted, "Have you two known each other long?"

Erestor solemnly shifted his attention to Elrond. "She is serious?"

"Ivy's knowledge of us comes only from the professor's works," Elrond explained smoothly. His thumbs rubbed her shoulders, reassuring. "Erestor and I served Gil-Galad in Beleriand. We were both with him when he died during the Siege of Barad-dur, before the One Ring was cut from Sauron's hand."

"I watched Gil-Galad transfer Vilya to Elrond, if that helps you," Erestor relayed.

"It has always seems to me that your help came to me along with the ring." Moving around Ivy, the Elf-lord examined a plate of appetizers on the kitchen's center island. "Erestor was one of my most trusted councilors in Imladris, and he remains a very good friend."

"Have you eaten?" the Elf demanded after Elrond had helped himself to a handful of peeled shrimp and a few black olives.

"I was waiting for Ivy to join us."

"That would be a no, then. Are you hungry?"

_He's looking at me now,_ thought Ivy,_ so he must be talking to me. _"A little."

"Then sit down." Turning away, Erestor busied himself at the broiler.

"None ever dare disobey such an order." Going to the table, Elrond held the chair for Ivy. "You'll soon discover it's much easier to comply than refuse when Erestor wishes to take care of you."

Elrond joined Ivy at the table. Seconds later, Erestor set a can of Diet Coke before her. Catching it up, she nearly yelped with joy.

"I've been wanting one of these for hours.How did you know?"

"We have our ways," said Erestor, placing an open bottle of wine and a clean goblet before Elrond. Silverware followed in short order. "Do you want ice with that," he asked Ivy, "or will you be taking it neat?"

Ivy already had the can open and had to stop drinking in order to answer the Elf. "This is fine, thanks."

"Barbaric," was Erestor's assessment.

A hand-thrown stoneware plate was placed before her next. Ivy's artist's brain registered the intricate thistle and greenleaf pattern running around the rim, but her growling stomach was much more interested in the beautiful steak sitting on the plate. Bowls of creamy mashed potatoes and an assortment of summer vegetables were set down as well.

"I'll leave you to it and check the buffet," Erestor announced, pushing through the swinging kitchen door.

"I haven't had a steak in years," Ivy confessed.

"Indeed?"

She picked up knife and fork only when Elrond did, only to notice the Elf-lord held his fork in his left hand with the prongs facing down, and his knife in the right. _Oh, great, he eats continental-style. Am I supposed to do that too?_

Her hunger overwhelmed her fears regarding table manners when Elrond seemed to sense her uneasiness and very pointedly began to eat. Ivy's concerns were entirely forgotten with the first bite of steak. "This is fantastic."

"You think so?" The Elf-lord sounded pleased.

"Better even than what my grandfather raised. What king of beef is this?"

"Angus, from my own cattle station."

"Grass fed?" she asked. "Free range?"

"Of course."

"So was my grandfather's, but it never tasted like this." She kept eating while Elrond set down his fork and warmed to his subject.

"Our stock is completely free of mad-cow disease and is greatly in demand. We export mainly to the United States and Japan." He shook his head. "You cannot be interested in this."

She waved her knife at him. "I'm interested in everything to do with you. How did Angus cows end up in Australia?"

"They originally came from the shires of Scotland." He pushed the bowl of mashed potatoes closer. "You should take some of this, and don't forget to try the other dishes before Erestor returns, else he will be offended and spare no words to tell you so."

She did as he suggested, only then realizing how truly hungry she was. "Were the Angus bred by Elves?"

"No, by the lowland Scots. Legolas sent a few yearlings to us as an experiment in 1840, and we have kept the breed ever since."

"So why are you here and not Oversea?" Ivy switched subjects as Elrond rose from the table to retrieve a basket of bread rolls. "Did you ever make it Oversea?"

"I did. But I missed my sons who never arrived after me. Glorfindel missed Legolas as well, and we both found life in the Undying Lands to be wretchedly boring. We were also curious as to how the world had changed in our absence. And so, we returned, along with Erestor, a few years before the birth of Julius Caesar."

"So you were gone...how many years?"

"We left from the Grey Havens around 1200 BCE, during what the Mortal world calls the Neolithic and Bronze Age of Britain. These are only rough dates; I would have to consult my records at home for the precise ones. To answer your question, we were gone approximately eleven hundred years."

"The world had to have changed a lot in all that time, so how did you know where to go when you came back?"

"A map was made for Cirdan. You see, we all used palantiri to keep in touch. Legolas had the one originally housed in Orthanc, as he inherited it from Aragorn upon his death. My sons had the one that survived Minas Anor."

"Minas Anor?" Ivy took another drink of Coke. "Isn't that the one Denathor had in his hands when he committed suicide?"

"It is." Erestor pushed back into the kitchen, and Elrond addressed him. "Ivy is very much enjoying her steak."

"It's the best I've ever had," she confirmed. "Everything else is good, too."

"I'm glad you think so." Hands on his hips, the Elf surveyed the table. "You two have enough, then? Glorfindel's asking for more prawns."

"That doesn't surprise me. He's always asking for something." Elrond's tone was one of dry amusement.

"I'll see to it."

The shrimp Erestor poured into boiling water a moment later were the size of small fish, and Ivy stared.

"Don't tell me you raise shrimp on your cattle station, too?"

"No, those were purchased frozen from a wholesaler in Sydney and flown in," said Elrond.

"Oh. Do you mind if I ask more questions?"

"Not at all." Elrond smiled so that his eyes crinkled at the corners. "How else am I to know what you wish to know, and how else are you to learn things?"

His kindness gave her courage. "I thought that anyone who used Denathor's particular palantir after his death saw nothing but two flaming hands?"

"That is so, but I repaired it before going Oversea," said Elrond, pouring more wine. "Would you like some of this?"

"Um...no thanks. Legolas gave me wine in New York, and I fell asleep on him."

"You fell asleep--"

"It's okay, he had the waiter box up our dinners and I ate mine later, back at the hotel," she quickly explained, not wanting the conversation to get sidetracked. _Palantirs are a lot more interesting than sleeping_. "How did you repair the palantir?"

"I _am_ a master of lore, am I not?" He gave her a stern look which Ivy interpreted as, 'Leave it.' "There are many palantiri in the Undying Lands, and Glorfindel used one to keep in touch with Legolas. I used another to communicate down the centuries with my sons."

"And the palantiri let you make a map to get back here?"

"Essentially, yes." Elrond leaned back as Erestor removed their plates. "A palantir has two uses. If you are alone, you may observe things from afar in a way that is similar to a Mortal's traditional use of a crystal ball. Your mental focus and power determines how detailed those things appear to you. You may also use a palantir to contact another and its user, to speak to each other mind to mind. You may also use one as a bulletin board and attach notes to it, to let another user read them. Through the use of all these methods, my sons and I assembled a map that enabled Cirdan to retrace the western road. I also brought with me a palantir small enough to hide in my pocket."

Ivy tucked into the crème caramel Erestor placed before her. "Wasn't the road closed?"

"It was, to men who knew of it and tried to use it for their own gain. Over the ages, however, knowledge of our kind was lost to all but Mortal folk tales, and the road could safely be reopened. When Cirdan discovered this, we asked him to take us to Alsium, which was in the day an ancient Roman port. My children had established themselves as wealthy citizens and resided in a villa there, about thirty-five kilometers from Rome."

"Why weren't the twins and Arwen in Ithilien? Or why didn't you all go back to Imladris?"

"Nature had reclaimed all of Imladris by then. As for the land surrounding our ford, Those who became the Welsh had claimed it long before I returned. As for settling here in Ithilien, Legolas and Arwen have never gotten on, and she has always refused to live anywhere near him.

"Over time, the Lothlórien and Mirkwood Elves who helped rebuild Ithilien spread over the continents - some by choice and some by expediency," Elrond explained. "Our time and history among Men has proven it is better if we do not all congregate in one place, for Men have a habit of noticing people who are different, and we are certainly different. In this way, if one of us is discovered or taken, the others can still be kept safe. It may be that, as we were warned would happen, some of us are diminishing because we have stayed so long in this world, but Legolas and others still refuse to leave these shores."

"Because he made a promise to Aragorn and his queen to look after their children?" Ivy ventured.

"And because many living below us, in the village of Lairg, are the Mortal descendents of Gondor and Ithilien. Legolas also looks after them."

Scooting back from the table, Ivy discreetly burped. "This is probably a really rude question, but how old are all of you now?"

"I was 6,500 years old when the Fellowship left, and am now around 9,300. Haldir is older than me by about a hundred years, but Glorfindel is the oldest among us at over 10,000. As for Legolas..." Elrond thought a moment. "I believe he is now around 4,800."

"Legolas is still two thousand years younger than you were when the ring was destroyed?" Ivy asked, incredulous.

"He is. But age matters little to us, for when you are immortal the years blend one into the next. We are all judged more by our wisdom and our actions than by our years."

Ivy nodded. "Speaking of actions, I wish my mother had told me some of this. Come to that, you must have phones now to supplement the palantir, so why didn't you just call and tell me all of this?"

"Marian would not allow it, and we had to respect her wishes for she is your mother. Now that she has revealed our existence to you..." He smiled. "How do you say it? All bets are off."

"Did you spy on me using your palantir?"

"Certainly not, for that would have been an unforgivable intrusion on your privacy." Elrond sounded indignant. "I did, however, dare to reach out in some small ways when you were younger."

"When?" Ivy said dubiously.

"Your violin teacher in Darby was Elven."

"Mr. Devine was Elvish?" She propped her elbows on the table. "So that's why he only wanted to teach me half of the time allotted and talk the other half. I thought it was because I played so badly that it sounded like a mad cat, and he couldn't stand listening. Was he relaying stuff to you?"

"Only a little." Elrond looked sheepish. "And then there was your Santa Claus." Off of Ivy's blank look, he said, "Did your particular Santa not live at the South Pole? Did he not send presents to you from Australia, and did you not send back to him letters and a video?"

Horrified, Ivy scooted away from the table. "You saw that embarrassing video my grandfather made me make?"

"I did." Elrond looked smug and far from repentant. "I found it delightful. I found you delightful."

"I thought that tape was for my mother! I talked about...about...." She glanced at Erestor, who was taking a large bowl of peeled shrimp out to the banquet area. Waiting until he'd gone, she whispered, "I talked about periods and bras on that tape and--"She buried her face in her hands. "Oh grief, I'm so humiliated."

"I regret your embarrassment, but I am a father as well as a healer. Nothing you confided could ever disconcert me." He captured her hand and tugged at her fingers. "Please look at me?"

"I can't."

"I was glad to catch a glimpse of you, of your life," Elrond said gently. "Your grandfather was in on the making of that video, unbeknownst to your mother."

"I told him I was too old to believe in Santa any more, but he bullied me into making it. I thought he'd give it to my mother."

"I don't believe Marian ever saw it, but she had you every day while I did not. A few years later, you were no longer in his life. Sadly, I feel responsible for your mother forcing you to move to San Francisco."

That confession made her drop her hands and look at him. "How could you be to blame?"

"Marian returned early from our summer solstice meeting, only to intercept a phone bill with my number on it. She and Cameron had a terrible fight after he admitted talking with me and accepting presents for you at Christmas for a number of years. Your mother thought our friendship was a terrible betrayal of her trust, so she took you away that very fall." Elrond's eyes were sad. "Not only did she move you across the country and beyond our reach, she also broke off all contact with your grandfather."

"The morning we left, Mom was in such a hurry to get away that she barely gave me time to say good-bye to Grandpa and all of the animals," Ivy whispered. "When we didn't hear anything from him at Christmas, she told me he'd let the ranch go and went into a retirement home. I never saw to him again."

"Cameron came to live with us," said Elrond. "He helped with the cattle and managed our stables whenever Glorfindel left on business."

"But Mom told me he died the next winter," Ivy contradicted. "She showed me a letter from his lawyer and her new deed to the ranch."

Elrond shook his head. "Cameron transferred the deed to her when he left the States. He passed from this world two winters ago due to complications from pneumonia, but won his struggle to live long enough to know that you received your Bachelor's Degree."

"Grandpa lived eight more years with you, and my mother lied about it?" Ivy didn't bother lowering her voice as Erestor re-entered the kitchen. "She wrecked my grandfather's life and made me get out of 4-H...made me leave all of my friends because she hates Elves that much?"

"She is afraid of us. I don't know that she hates us."

Swiping away tears, Ivy took the tissue Erestor was suddenly standing by to offer. "Thank you."

"Welcome." Pushing the Kleenex box across the table, the Elf took the chair opposite Elrond.

"My pony," Ivy suddenly remembered. "I had to leave Windfola, and she was a gift from Santa. Did you send her to me?"

"I did, for you told me on the video that you wanted a horse. Glorfindel imported her here from Iceland, trained her for me, and sent her on to you for Christmas."

"She saved me once," said Ivy, "from a mountain lion attack."

"Then Glorfindel did well training her." Elrond reached out to stroke Ivy's hair while she balled her fingers tight around the latest tissue. "I'm sure he would like to hear how Windfola saved you."

"Give me a minute to stop crying, and maybe I could tell him." Stealing more tissues, she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. "I can't believe my mother could do such a thing. Wait. Yes, I can. She's kept secrets all of her life from me, what's one more? But I'm here with you now, and even though I can't see Grandpa again, we can still talk and make up for lost time, right?"

"Right."

"All of the secrets are coming out now, and it serves her right." Ivy lifted her head. "If Mom is that paranoid about Elves, you know she's going to go ballistic when I end up in Oz with you. She may have stolen my childhood and hurt Grandpa, but that's all over. I don't care what she thinks or how much she yells that Elves are dangerous and I should be careful around you. Do you really think Glorfindel wants to hear about my old pony?"

"I do."

Ivy lifted her chin. "Then lead on, MacDuff."


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

If the great hall across the way had been made over into Ballroom d'Tacky, the dining hall was Olde Medieval Money.

_Old money, old world, and really quiet, _thought Ivy, cautiously following Elrond into the room that held new Elves for her to meet.

Much to Ivy's relief, no rococo nightmares had reached this hall. There was only more of the sinfully thick carpeting featuring the same greenleaf pattern as she'd seen upstairs, and shining ash paneling that appeared to match the woodwork in Haldir's library. There was also a heavy iron chandelier set high in the wood-beamed, white-washed ceiling overhead, which looked like it had been recycled from some ancient hall in Ithilien itself. Real candles burned in it, and Ivy noted that no electric dimmer switches were in sight. _I guess Haldir didn't dare change anything in here?_

The long plain table dominating the big room was a larger version of the one in the kitchen, suitable for seating thirty, or so Ivy estimated on the way by. Stacked on the gigantic buffet behind the table were more of the utilitarian stoneware plates featuring the Scottish thistle-and-greenleaf pattern Ivy had noticed in the kitchen.

There were quiet murmurs and subtle glances from the Elves already gathered in the room before all went ominously silent. So silent that Ivy could hear the whisper of Elrond's robes as he led the way.

A few willowy, elegant female Elves near the door turned as one to mark Ivy's trailing after Elrond. Ivy knew their looks of dismissal all too well, having seen others like it too often at horse shows where she'd exhibited her paintings.

_Yeah, that's me: no money, no clothes and no makeup. I look like the hired help, but The Perfect Ones probably didn't like my mother, either. Thank heaven they didn't witness my trying to get away from Julien. Double thanks that they don't want to meet me, because there have been way too many surprises. I'm not up to making a further spectacle of myself tonight. Maybe tomorrow because Legolas will be there tomorrow. He'd better be there tomorrow._

For all of Ivy's silent bravado, she found her steps faltering as Elrond approached two more Elves who seemed to have commandeered the massive stone fireplace at the far end of the long hall. _There are two Elves to meet over there, and one of them is the legendary Glorfindel? I am so out of my league, and this is only the first night. Maybe it would have been better to have stayed in the kitchen?_

Her face must have reflected some of her uncertainty, for the tall, fair Elf that Elrond had earlier pointed out as being Glorfindel pushed abruptly away from the fireplace. Catching Elrond's eye, Glorfindel gestured with his wine goblet to draw Elrond's attention toward the perfect Elves at the door before subsiding back against the stone fireplace as if he'd never moved.

Pausing, Elrond turned slightly and held out his hand. "Daughter."

It was only one word, but the warmth and welcome it held was unmistakable. Ivy immediately closed the space between them to slip her hand into his. Peripherally, she was aware of the perfect Elves murmuring among themselves and filing out the door.

_Put that in your chocolate and smoke it,_ she thought.

That left only two Elves in the room for her to meet. Grateful for Glorfindel's discreet help, Ivy wondered if the books were right, if he was actually a legend among his own kind. This one, it was said, had proven so valiant, honorable and loyal in Gondolin that he was the only Elf to ever have been re-embodied by the Valar and sent back to Middle-earth. All of the others who had died and regained their bodies remained in Valinor. Legend also had it that Glorfindel had spent so much time among the Maiar that he was practically one of them.

Leaning casually against the fireplace, the newest Elven lord was dressed in a red-flannel shirt, faded blue jeans, and a pair of well-worn, square-toed boots. Ivy could well imagine him a Ringer who had come straight off the Great Dividing Range, except that the luxurious golden hair fanning across his shoulders entirely wrecked the man from Snowy River effect.

He and Legolas shared the same bone structure and musculature, but Glorfindel's skin was so pale, it seemed to glow nearly transparent in the candlelight. Ivy knew she was openly staring at him, but the Elf-lord seemed willing to suffer her scrutiny and waited with a half-smirking serenity for her to finish. The eyes she finally met were ice-blue, like a huskie's. Ivy sensed he was assessing her every bit as closely as she was him, yet his eyes danced a welcome. Judged, she may have been, but Ivy didn't think he'd found her wanting.

_Not yet, anyway. _She liked him immediately.

Placing his hand over his heart, Glorfindel gave a short bow. "Welcome, Ivy Macleod. I am Glorfindel, and I hope our motley, pointy-eared crew hasn't frightened you too badly."

"Erm, no." Ivy wondered if she should return his formal salute, but decided it would probably look silly.

"Not yet, anyway?" Glorfindel teased with a smile that lit up his eyes. The deep, calming timbre of his voice was a surprise.

"Not yet," she agreed, and found herself grinning back at him. _If Burnt Umber had a sound - rich and smooth and deep - his voice would be it,_ Ivy decided. "Please forgive my staring, but I can't take my eyes off of you."

"And why is that?"

Hadn't Legolas told her to always speak her truth when dealing with Elvenkind? Taking a deep breath and deciding to trust his advice, Ivy took the plunge. "You have the most beautiful voice, I've never heard anything like it. Not only that, but the way you look and the way you feel to be near...that's pretty mind-blowing, too. You're not scary, you're mesmerizing."

Glorfindel laughed outright. "Mesmerizing, am I? I like the sound of that, but it won't last. I'll certainly enjoy it while it does, but please know I am simply an Elf who has lived a long time. No more and no less, little one."

Elrond's hand was warm on Ivy's back. "I've the feeling we're going to be here for some time, so why don't we all sit down?"

"An excellent idea." Sinking where he stood, Glorfindel sat cross-legged on the side of the hearth, just beyond the searing heat of the fire. Patting the stone, he said, "Would you like to join me?"

The golden Elf's smile was so beguiling, his blue eyes as eager and open as a child's, that Ivy began believing she really was welcome.

"Ivy will sit on the floor next to me." Elrond took the one remaining chair next to a silent Elf whose name Ivy didn't know.

Grateful for being told so clearly what to do, she settled opposite Glorfindel on the floor, where she could soak up the heat from the fire. Scooting closer to Elrond's side, she asked, "Do you mind if I lean against you?"

"Not at all."

The Elf-lord's leg was a comfortable support, and Ivy felt braver being in contact with him. _He rescued me from those snooty Elves, so I know he won't let anything really bad happen to me. Embarrassing, sure. Bad, no. _She focused again on the still-smiling Glorfindel.

"So you aren't of high birth, of the Vanyar, after all?" Ivy let disappointment tinge her tone.

"Well, yes I am, but--"

"But you really didn't do all those heroic things the books say you did? You didn't fight a balrog and save the women and children of Gondolin from certain death?"

"Of course I did. But I also fell to my doom after getting my long, golden tresses caught up in the balrog's horns...claws...whatever. That doesn't sound very heroic, does it?"

"The survivors thought so," said Ivy. "They built a monument to you right there, on the spot."

"That, they did," Glorfindel admitted. "But instead of asking a giant eagle to bring up my lifeless body and gathering stones to heap over me, I've always thought it would have been a bit brighter if they'd have gotten their collective behinds down the mountain and off to safety."

"Maybe. But another time you fought the Witch-king and won."

"No, Eowyn fought him and won. I merely laughed at him and he ran away to fight another day. Have you ever seen a ringwraith?"

"Only in the movies."

"They look rather silly, don't they? Running about dressed in black sheets, screeching and sniffing the air to catch your scent like incompetent bloodhounds. You'd think Sauron's darlings could have come up with more inventive Halloween tricks to defeat the enemy."

"There are always the morgul blades," Ivy challenged.

"Yes, you're right. Best not get scratched. Better to laugh so hard that the ghouls give up in confusion. It's a terrible thing to laugh at a Nazgul," Glorfindel said conspiratorially. "They end up totally bewildered if their presence doesn't reduce you to trembling impotence."

"Why weren't you afraid of them?"

The Elf-lord tilted his head. "I've faced Morgoth's army, died by Balrog, and spent some time with Mandos and his friends. Not much frightens me any more."

_I'll bet he has some great stories to tell,_ Ivy reflected. _Maybe I'll get to hear them one day. _

"Not to change the subject or anything," she said hesitantly, "but Elrond told me you fathered Legolas?"

"Ah, so I did." Arching an eyebrow, Glorfindel looked at Elrond. "Told her about that, did you?"

"I mentioned it only in passing and knew to leave the telling of the tale to you."

"That's kind of you."

"You and Legolas look so much alike," said Ivy, "and some of your mannerisms are the same, but your personalities are so different that it's making my mind tilt."

Glorfindel leaned forward. "Are we back to my being mesmerizing?"

She grinned. "Definitely. But when I referred to Legolas as Thranduilion on the plane, he didn't correct me."

Elrond braced his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers. "Legolas' conception and birth are two of the greatest scandals of our history. Even as his father is one of the most powerful warriors among us. Glorfindel's name and deeds are indeed legend, whether he admits it or not."

"Did he just compliment me?" Glorfindel demanded.

"Um, I think so."

"That won't last either. But Elrond is right about my son, and we need a few scandalous legends to keep us humble."

"Humble now, are you?" said Elrond,

"Definitely." Glorfindel nodded, all solemnity. "As St. Augustine said - mostly - 'It was pride that changed angels into devils; it is humility that makes the Elves as angels.'"

"So Elves really are like angels?" Ivy asked in all eagerness.

Glorfindel snorted. "Hardly. We are in the middle of an ongoing soap opera, the same as everyone else on this planet. I will admit to having participated in one or two overtly dramatic scenes down through the ages. Legolas' very existence did begin in scandal though through no fault of his own. As for my son's paternal name, he probably didn't want to confuse you since your mother has already done plenty of that."

"How is Legolas' existence a scandal?" Ivy puzzled.

"He was intended by the Valar to be the guardian of the Istari," said Glorfindel. "One in particular called Mithrandir, commonly known as Gandalf. And so Legolas' birth was...a bit manipulated, if you will...by the Valar. His mother was the queen of Mirkwood, but Thranduil did not father him."

_This just keeps getting weirder and weirder,_ thought Ivy, feeling as if her mind might explode with the newest revelation of the week. "So the professor was wrong? Elves don't bond forever?"

"The professor was right, but the Valar broke the bond between Thranduil and his queen long before I visited Mirkwood in the third age."

"Why were you in Mirkwood?" Ivy asked.

"During my time between the worlds, I came to know Mithrandir as Olorin - one of the Maiar who are lesser members of the Valar. Mith was the last wizard to arrive in Middle-earth, and as I had long been back, I elected to leave Imladris for a time and show him about. One of our 'getting acquainted' stops was Mirkwood. While Mithrandir met with the king, I renewed my acquaintance with the queen." The Elf-lord's expression was all innocence.

"Whoa." Ivy rocked back against Elrond's leg. "If we're all players in a soap opera, I think you may be one of the leads."

"Delicious, isn't it?" He grinned at her. "Seriously, my encounter with the queen of Mirkwood was not the way it appears upon first hearing, and the Valar had their reasons - quite strong ones - for wanting Legolas born. Thranduil returned from the Battle of Dagorlad in total misery after watching his eldest son, his father, and his uncles fall - more through obstinacy than bravery when Oropher refused to wait for Elrond's order to charge. Oropher's recklessness meant one third of the entire Elven army was swallowed up by the marshes northwest of the entrance to Mordor.

"Thranduil became king upon his return to Mirkwood. He also lost himself in depression and drink, becoming someone the queen could no longer bear to be near, either in soul or body. She remained with him out of loyalty and memory of what they had once been to each other, but the Valar generously dissolved their bond, lest she sink into a depression even deeper than Thranduil's. When I arrived a thousand years into the Third Age..." Glorfindel spread his hands before him.

"You seduced the queen of Mirkwood just after meeting her?" Ivy squeaked.

"I did not," Glorfindel sounded indignant. "I'd met the lady before and thought her quite lovely. I still think her quite lovely."

"Is she here?"

"She is in Valinor, but that is part of the tale I'm trying to tell, if you'll be patient."

"Sorry." Ivy subsided.

"As I pointed out earlier, the Valar had a hand in Legolas' conception. We were nudged, if you will, to become better acquainted in the gardens of Mirkwood, hence her naming Legolas as she did. I left Mirkwood not knowing she had conceived, nor that we had bonded. Yes, I know this shatters points of the professor's backstory all to hell." Glorfindel raised a hand as Ivy was about to interrupt him again. "But really, you must consider that his source was most impure and be willing set a fair bit of the professor's writings aside if you're to learn our history without its angelic affectations. Now, where was I?"

"You were bonded and left Mirkwood," Ivy said quickly.

"So we were, and so I did. Mith and I continued our tour. A few months later, the grapevine carried the news that the queen of Mirkwood was with child. Thinking the child might be mine as the timing was right, I left Imladris once more and returned to Mirkwood, only to discover I was now barred from entering Thranduil's domain. He knew he had not lain with the queen, and I suspected he knew who had.

"I hung about the gates for some weeks, seeking a way in. In due time, the queen delivered her son. She was allowed to hold Legolas but once, and then Thranduil tossed her out."

"Among the spiders?" Ivy gasped.

"Among the spiders and the orcs," Glorfindel confirmed. "I was able to intercept and protect her, and my first priority was to get her to safety, which meant as far away from Mirkwood as possible. Weakened by childbirth and beyond distraught, she wanted only to go Oversea. I took her to the Grey Havens, and at our farewell she begged me to retrieve our son from Thranduil and bring him to her. This, I promised to do, but the Valar and circumstances had other plans. I tried every few months to re-enter Mirkwood and negotiate Legolas' release, but was always turned away - politely but firmly - at the gates. My efforts were for nothing unless I wished to wage single-handed war upon my own kind.

"Twelve years later, Mith returned to Mirkwood and greeted its king with the news that Dol Guldur might be reawakening and Sauron's power with it. The wizard found Legolas hiding behind a tapestry in one of Thranduil's meeting rooms. Thin and dirty, neglected by Thranduil and abused by Galion, Legolas was filled with fear and only six years old in Mortal terms. Mith managed to win my son in game of chance played that night with the sodden king. Knowing Legolas would certainly be reclaimed when Thranduil had slept off his folly, Mithrandir whisked Legolas away and was on the road to Imladris by dawn's light.

"By the time wizard and Elfing arrived, a fierce bond had formed between them, regardless Mith had been sent to Middle-earth for a definite purpose that did not include towing about vulnerable little Elves. Of course he had to leave my son in Elrond's keeping and continue with his quest to discover where the One Ring lay hidden. Of course Legolas spent the next thirty years learning from me the skills necessary to travel with his wizard and protect them both from all harm." Glorfindel shook his head. "I never was able to keep my promise to Legolas' mother; to this day, my son has not set foot in Valinor."

Not wanting to move while Glorfindel told his tale, Ivy finally dared stretch out her legs, which were falling asleep. "Elrond told me why he came back from that realm. But why did you?"

"The first time I returned to Middle-earth, I was re-embodied and sent back by the Valar quite simply to aid Elrond, who was unable to leave Imladris while the power of Vilya was required to conceal and protect that sanctuary. I led the Elvish forces of Imladris, the Grey Havens, and Lothlórien against the forces of the Witch-king in the Battle of Fornost. Elrond and I were also charged with protecting the last of the Elves at the Grey Havens if the Fellowship failed and the One Ring was returned to a re-embodied and all-powerful Sauron. Our job in that case would have been to hold the final line against the Dark Lord as long as it took for the last ship to get away.

"That sounds like a suicide mission."

Glorfindel nodded solemnly. "The second time I returned here...there are so many reasons, where to begin?"

He began ticking them off on his long fingers. "First of all, Legolas never came home as he still had responsibilities to tend and promises to keep. I missed him. I wanted to come back and help. So I did. Secondly, my bonded mate has never forgiven me for not rescuing her son and sending him to her. She feels cheated, not only out of raising Legolas, but out of watching the rest of his life unfold to this day. She knows him only through stories told of him, which is heartbreaking for a mother as you might imagine. We had a second son in Valinor, whose raising she jealously guarded to the point of deliberately locking me out of his upbringing and spoiling him rotten. I decided to leave her to it and return when her mood may have softened toward me."

"Thirdly--"Glorfindel cocked his thumb at Elrond. "I have doggedly guarded this one's safety for centuries, as Legolas guarded Mithrandir. Neither Erestor nor I were about to let Elrond back into the scary world of Men without our being there to watch his back."

Glorfindel fell silent and waited patiently for Ivy to ask her next question. A growing fatigue made her struggle to absorb much of what the Elf-lord had shared.

_Stupid jetlag,_ she thought as the grandfather clock outside the door chimed midnight._ What I'm hearing is too fascinating to give up and go to bed._ It didn't help that Elrond was stroking her hair. She soaked up that touch and instinctively relaxed beneath his open caring.

"Why are Haldir and Legolas posing as father and son if you're here?" she asked.

Elrond took up the tale. "We have all developed strategies for appearing as Men, for this is their world now, and our survival requires us to interact with them. We establish roles and play them out for entire Mortal lifetimes at a time. So it is that I am Elden Warlow while Glorfindel is Gordon Westron. We retire each role after only a few decades, creating a new one or lying low for a generation or two if a previous role has been too public."

Explained Glorfindel, "Legolas and I have posed as entire strangers, mere business associates, cousins, as father and son and even as brothers at different points in the Mortal timeline. We cannot always be father and son, as the Mortals would notice. A couple of centuries back and for some months, we were both the Laird of Lairg when Legolas had to be in two places at once - in London as well as here. That was interesting to say the least. We got away with it because there was no Internet or CNN back then."

"Haldir's current role as Halden Greenwood is coming to an end," Elrond pointed out, "for the persona has aged to the point that it must be retired. The persona of Lee Greenwood the Third was set up nearly twenty-eight years ago as Halden's son and heir, so Legolas has a fresh role to maneuver with for some years to come. At some point in the near future, Halden's death will be announced to the media. A mock funeral will be held in the graveyard next to the parish church in the village - complete with a wooden coffin built by the locals and filled with sandbags - and Haldir will drop out of public sight for a few years."

Ivy twisted around to look at her new guardian. "Am I going to have to play someone else, too?"

"Not until your natural Mortal lifespan has passed," Elrond replied. "It is a safety precaution for all of us who interact with the world of Men."

She sighed. "It all sounds so exhausting. Do you ever get to be who you are? Just Elves, living your own lives?"

"We do, behind closed doors and away from prying Mortal eyes," said Elrond. "We've thirty-five thousand private acres two hours southwest of Sydney where we are able to do just that."

"That's definitely reassuring." She fingered the material of his robes pooled beside her on the floor. "Is this raw silk?"

"It is. And no, we do not have our own silkworm farm." He smiled down at her. "We import the material from Japan and Italy."

She bit her lip. "If you're anticipating my questions, does that mean I've asked too many tonight?"

"Not at all." His smile deepened, and his fingers were in her hair again, reassuring.

"Okay, I have to ask - why are you the only one wearing formal robes? Not that I'm objecting or anything, because they look great."

"I am not always so formal," murmured Elrond.

"Sometimes he's worse," said Glorfindel. "We all have robes, but some of us fight tooth and nail not to wear them. And then there's Elrond, who seems married to them."

"Ignore my Greek chorus, please. At the very least, do not believe everything Glorfindel says, for he will often say anything to keep things interesting. As for my robes, I wanted to look my best when you and I finally met. I also need to intimidate a few people this weekend. But my attire is not always so formal."

"Or beautiful and flowing," piped in Glorfindel once more.

Ivy tried not to laugh at the legendary Elf-lord's gleeful tone, but lost the battle. Thumping the side of his boot with her own, she protested, "I'm having a hard time envisioning an informal Lord Elrond, and you're not helping."

"I am so glad to hear that."

She looked up at Elrond. "I'm sorry I didn't dress to meet you, but I didn't know--"

"You could have turned up in sackcloth and ashes, and this one wouldn't have minded," Glorfindel said. "It would only have given him another excuse to tut-tut, enumerate how neglected you are, and shower you with paternal luxuries. Given half the opportunity, he'd spoil you rotten."

_That sounds really nice, I'd like to try it,_ Ivy thought. She knew better than to say it out loud, though, certain that Elven lords from Sydney had better things to do than take care of fully grown Queen's Daughters.

A/N: The tale of Mithrandir rescuing young Legolas was written by Greenwood and myself, finished in April 2002, and is included on this site under the title of "Through the Heart of a Child."


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

"My daughter tells me the Icelandic mare you trained once saved her life." Elrond commented, effectively diverting Glorfindel from discussing Elrond himself.

"Did she? Could you tell me how?" Glorfindel urged, looking for all the world like a child eager for story-time.

"My grandfather didn't tell you about it?"

"Well, yes, he did," came the sheepish admission, "but Cameron wasn't with you when it happened, and the experience had to be far more exciting than he knew to tell."

"Exciting? Try terrifying." _The greatest Elf that Middle-earth ever saw is eager for me to tell him a story. Are we sure he and Legolas are related?_

"Okay, this is how it went," she began doubtfully. "Stop me if you're bored. No matter what the season was, Windfola always turned for home two hours before sunset. It didn't matter if I didn't want to go home, she'd point her nose toward home, and that's where we went.

"I wanted to ride up on the mountain behind our ranch and do some watercolors of an abandoned cabin, so I packed a picnic lunch and off we went about ten o'clock on a Saturday. Windfola probably knew a mountain lion was stalking us on the way home a lot sooner than I did, because she had this weird impatience, and I kept having to pull her back for fear she'd lame herself or worse on the rocky trail. Grandpa told me later that the lion was a small one, so it was probably just learning how to hunt.

"It leaped at us from a pile of rocks and was just a blur to me. The next thing I knew, Windfola was screaming and rearing. I managed to ride that, but then she bolted off the trail only to stop abruptly, and I was pitched over her head. I remember thinking before I hit the ground, 'She's running for home, and I'm going to get eaten.' I don't remember hurting from coming off - that came later - and I got up in time to see the lion go sprawling behind Windfola, who was facing me."

"She kicked it, then?" Glorfindel asked.

"Grandpa thought so. If she did, she probably snapped one of its legs or shattered its rib cage, but it was kind of hard for me to see what happened. She spun and lunged and bit at it, and threw it around like a rag doll. It wasn't moving when Windfola dropped it, but she reared and stomped it anyway, huffing and snorting all the while. She came back to me when she was satisfied it was dead, but I was shaking so badly I could hardly get back up on her.

"Her ears were pricked and she kept blowing and staring in all directions, as if another lion might come at us. I was jumping at the shadows too, wondering if mountain lions hunted in packs like wolves and if they were going to get us, but she got us safely off the mountain. I didn't even try to guide her, just held onto her mane and trusted her to find her own way home.

"She went straight to the barn, but it wasn't time to feed yet. So I brushed her down, gave her some water and half a flake of hay, and then I went looking for Grandpa. Mom was busy making supper, so I had to pretend like everything was okay when I walked through the kitchen. Grandpa was watching the news, so I sat down next to him and stared at the television without really seeing it. I was sitting on my hands and trying to stop shaking. He gave me this funny look and asked what as wrong. I told him Windfola had just killed a mountain lion.

"He asked if I was hurt. I said no, and then he asked if my pony was okay. Then he asked if I could show him where it happened. Now? Before dinner? He said yeah, now. We were talking in whispers, so Mom wouldn't hear.

"He got down his rifle and we didn't tell Mom where we were going, but snuck out the front door, around the house, and into the barn. Windfola wasn't happy at being taken away from her hay, but I got her ready again while Grandpa saddled Kino, and we went back up the mountain.

"The sun was going down now, and both horses started tensing up when we got close to where it happened. I pointed out the carcass and stayed on Windfola while Grandpa inspected it. It was pretty flat. He left it where it was - no hope of a trophy there - and got back on Kino.

"He didn't say a word all the way home, so I don't know what he was thinking. I didn't really care, I just wanted to be home because there were lions and bears, wolves and maybe aliens in those woods. I was still shaking. My heart was pounding in my ears, and if I'd heard so much as an owl hooting, I think I'd have died. Windfola kept flicking back her ears as if to say, 'It's okay, the monsters are all gone,' but that didn't really help.

"We didn't get back home until after full dark, and then all Grandpa did was feed and water everybody. Windfola got an extra flake of hay, and he patted her neck and rubbed her face. All he said was, 'You've done good, lady.' My mother yelled at both of us for being late when we went in, but she never knew why we were late." Ivy shrugged. "And that's my story."

Glorfindel looked pleased. "Elrond had me train her to take care of you, but one never knows if the training will hold if it is needed. I am glad she looked after you."

"She always looked after me," said Ivy, "even when I didn't need it. I got to ride her only three years before we moved to San Francisco, but she could tolt all day long and keep up with the big horses in 4-H. She'd go through or around anything."

"Anything?" Glorfindel sounded incredulous. "What of mud and rivers?"

"Up to her belly," Ivy said proudly. "Over logs and even a clattery covered bridge. She was so sane..." She looked from Elf to Elf and felt herself flushing. "I'm sorry, I got carried away."

"That's a never-mind," said the golden Elf. "All of us here are horse people. You'll not find a more attentive audience to listen while you talk about your mare."

"You must miss her terribly," said Elrond.

"Yeah." Ivy leaned harder against him, and he leaned back. Solid and warm, he seemed every bit as reliable as her pony had been.

"You know there is no word in Icelandic for pony, so your Windfola was actually a horse?" said Glorfindel. "When Elrond told me to find you a pony, I flew up and looked for one in the Shetland Isles. The natives there don't ask if you have ponies, they ask if you have horses. Then they ask if you have big ones or little ones - little ones being Shetlands. 'Hesti' is the Shetland word for horse, so they say, 'Does du hae ony hesti?' to which you answer, 'Aye.' Then they ask, 'Muckle or perrie eens?' You say, 'Baith,' and they say 'Foo mony?' and so it goes. After seeing one particular Shetland pony, I thought you might be happier with an Icelandic horse instead."

"Why is that?"

"The gelding I saw was white and short, barrel-chested and wicked to the point that it might have been a pwca in another life. The thing stood perfectly still while his owner and I watched, and the owner's son mounted it. It trotted obedient around the field and seemed fine under saddle. But when the boy walked me to my car, he confided that as soon as his father's back was turned, the pony would dance and buck until the boy was ejected. The wicked thing would then return without its rider to the father. Said father would grab the reins and march off in search of his muddy, limping son and wonder why the boy had fallen off again." Glorfindel shook his head. "A Shetland wasn't the pony for you."

Elrond's hand settled on Ivy's shoulder. "Your grandfather left Windfola with your neighbor to the east. We could see about getting her back, if you like?"

Ivy twisted to look up at him. "You're serious?"

"Quite."

"Hang about," said Glorfindel. "Where's she to keep a horse in San Francisco?"

"Ivy has agreed to join us in Warra after the meeting." His fingers combed gently through her hair. "What do you say? Do you want Windfola back?

"Oh yes, please."

"Hang about again, if you don't mind," said Glorfindel. "I know the making of this miracle is something you'll leave to me, but there are practical matters to discuss. Are the records on this mare up to date? Is she current on all her shots? I taught her to load, but does she still do it easily?"

"She'd follow anywhere I wanted to go when I left her," said Ivy. "Even into a cramped trailer, because going somewhere meant adventures to her. I don't know about the rest of it. I haven't seen her in ten years, so how can I?"

"There you are," said Elrond. "Glorfindel, make the call to Montana. We'll pick up Windfola on the way home."

"On the way home?" Ivy echoed. "It can't possibly be that easy."

Glorfindel winked at her, his blue eyes twinkling. "It is when you've millions of pounds at your disposal and a cargo-jet waiting on the tarmac just out there. It's good to be king."

"So you're king now, are you?" asked Elrond.

"I'm father of the great laird of Lairg, aren't I?" He raised his goblet in a silent toast. "That's as close as makes no difference."

The conversation was interrupted as Haldir darted into the room and headed straight for the Vinotemp next to the long sideboard. Bracing a hand atop the cooler, he spared a glance at Ivy and her group before bending down to peer through the protective glass.

"Is all well with you this evening?" Haldir asked.

"Never better," said a cheerful Glorfindel.

"Good, good," Haldir said absentmindedly. Selecting a bottle of wine, he went out the way he'd come, seeming in a great hurry.

"Is Haldir...does Haldir--"Ivy thought she should probably rephrase the question she had in mind. "Legolas told me Haldir's afraid of the wine cellar, but that hardly explains why there's a Vinotemp in every room."

"Are you daring to ask if the former marchwarden of Lothlórien is a lush?" whispered Glorfindel.

"Um...I guess I am?"

That set the golden Elf-lord off into peels of laughter, which Elrond's look of disapproval only served to intensify.

"I can see how it might look that way," Elrond admitted while Glorfindel struggled to get himself under control. "Haldir does not have a drinking problem. He does, however, have a problem with the wine cellar. You see, some years ago, Legolas tried bottling blaeberry wine, which is a Scottish cousin to your blueberry. It makes a fine red wine when it's put up properly. When it's not, the liquid in the bottles has a tendency to become volatile. As this was Legolas' first effort, a few of his bottles did not age well."

"You'll need a bit of backstory to really appreciate this," said Glorfindel. "As an Elfling navigating the trees of Lothlórien, Haldir was taught to maintain at least three points of contact with a branch or tree trunk at all times. Regardless he's no longer a tree hugger, he still has the unconscious habit of bracing his hand against the wall, door, doorjamb or what have you of any room he enters. It's quite amusing to note once you're aware of it. When he descends into the wine cellar, he invariably braces his hand against the wine rack at the bottom of the stairs."

"Unfortunately," Elrond retrieved the story thread, "that is the rack that contained Legolas' defective bottles back in the day. Jostled as they were, they had no choice but to explode one after the other, which made Haldir think he was being assaulted. He streaked back up the stairs and insisted, from that moment on, that the cellar was haunted and the ghost disliked only him, for no one else was ever attacked when they went down there."

"No one else is attacked," said Glorfindel, "because no one else has the habit of bracing a hand on things. From that day to this, a few bottles are always laying in wait for Haldir."

The mental image of Haldir creeping down the stone cellar steps, only to have something explode out of the darkness and send him streaking back the way he had come, made Ivy giggle. "Was the ghost laid to rest while Legolas was in Alaska?"

"The ghost is far from laid," the older Elf-lord said mournfully.

"Glorfindel and I made a pact to - as far as was possible - keep things as they were before Legolas left," said Elrond.

"We have our own vineyards and bottle our own labels in Oz," Glorfindel explained, "and we've flown in cases of stuff every solstice for decades. We wouldn't want Haldir to feel that the castle ghost is neglecting him, so we've always deliberately created a few volatile bottles."

"They must be packed as carefully as nitroglycerin itself, but bring them we do," said Elrond. "Erestor is in on the scheme as well, for he is the one who stocks the cellar. He and Bridie also fill the Vinotemps, so Haldir is falsely reassured by his not having to challenge the cellar ghost very often. Yet the bottles always lurk there, ever ready for whenever he dares venture into the ghost's domain."

Ivy looked from a calm Elrond to a smirking Glorfindel. "Haldir is seriously that gullible?"

"You've no idea," said Elrond, sounding more like Eeyore in that moment, than a powerful Elf-lord.

"Oh, that's great." Ivy giggled. "So you bottle your own wine, grow your own crops, and raise your own cattle in Oz. Are you entirely self-sustaining, like Imladris was?"

"We are," said Elrond with some pride. "But I believe Warra is even better than was Imladris, as you shall see for yourself."

~ # ~ # ~

Ivy continued sneaking looks at the third Elf who slouched so silently in his comfy chair beside Elrond and turned a can of Diet Coke slowly between his fingers. His hair was as dark as Elrond's, and watchful grey eyes looked steadily back at Ivy, but this particular Elf hadn't contributed a word during the long conversation.

Ivy noted he possessed the same watchful stillness she was beginning to associate with all Elven warriors, but this one didn't feel nearly as old as the other two Elves. He was also attentive rather than menacing, for which Ivy was thankful.

The strange Elf's hair was as black as Elrond's and very nearly as long, while his cheekbones looked so sharp, they might have been chiseled from stone. He looked somehow familiar, but Ivy was too worn out to chase down why. Glorfindel had introduced himself immediately, but neither he nor Elrond had introduced the new Elf, and Ivy didn't think it was proper to blurt out, 'So who are you?'

"Well, I'll be leaving you three to the night, as I've some phone calls to make to Darby, and a son to check up on." Getting to his feet, Glorfindel stretched and smiled down at Ivy. "Don't let these two keep you talking 'til dawn. Sleep well when you get there, and I'll see you in the morning."

He headed for the door, and Ivy saw the same feline grace in him as she'd seen in Legolas. Once more, her fingers itched for a pencil. _If I get to watch the two of them move all weekend, I won't need a pencil. The long-leggedy, flowing images will be embedded in my mind. Mmm, now that's a lovely thought._

Elrond was caressing her hair again, and Ivy wondered if it was becoming a habit for him after only one evening. "Glorfindel has a point, daughter. You will need to sleep soon."

"I know. But not quite yet. I'm too afraid of waking up back in San Francisco and discovering this has all been a dream. I won't have even started writing my thesis, and it will be time to panic."

"You truly believe that would be worse than waking up and discovering you'll have us in your life from now on?" asked Elrond.

"Oh, yeah."

Ivy's gaze was again drawn to the other Elf when he shifted, raised an eyebrow of inquiry at her and stretched his long legs toward the fire. Dressed in well-worn jeans and a ratty sweatshirt, with the tips of his pointed ears peeking out from between tousled strands of long black hair, Ivy thought this one looked like a study in shabby sinister.

_Either that or he's trying for the stereotypical bohemian artist, _she thought. _Is he maybe mute? Oh, what the heck, Ivy, say something! He can't hurt you, not with Elrond sitting right here._

"I must be more tired than I thought," she murmured, "because you actually look familiar."

"I should, because we actually know each other." His accent was American, which was the last thing Ivy expected.

"We do? How can that be, when I met my first Elf only yesterday? Or was it two days ago?" She frowned, somewhat disturbed that her ability to tell time suddenly seemed to be in question.

"Aw, Ivy. And here I thought you kind of liked me." The Elf's grey eyes twinkled in the firelight, and he looked far from offended.

Sighing in frustration, Ivy pushed back the annoying strands of hair that defied Elrond's efforts to smooth them away from her face. "I know I'm seriously jetlagged, but I honestly don't know where I could have met anyone who looks like you."

"No? I'm mortally wounded to hear you've forgotten me." He raised his can of Diet Coke in a mock toast. "Here's to making pottery, Iv."

_Making pottery?_ she puzzled. _Iv?_

The light dawned slowly in her muddled mind as she remembered a dirty ceramics lab with long hours of frustration spent at a potter's wheel. A lone friend had shared those trials at the wheel, a friend she hadn't seen in almost six years.

"You--you're not--"She sputtered, finally recognizing the Elf who was now openly laughing at her. "It _is_ you!" she finally managed to say. "You're my Dan!"

Lurching upward awkwardly, Ivy lunged across the broad arm of the Elf's chair. Tangling her fingers in his hair, she managed to wrap her arms around his neck and squeezed tightly.

"I missed you so much!"

"Oh, now you missed me? Ouch." He winced as her enthusiasm nearly pulled out his hair. "Ivy, let go. I don't think this chair is big enough for the both of us."

"I don't care." She hugged him harder, nearly in tears as she all but buried her nose in his neck. "You left without saying good-bye, you wretch. And...wait a minute. How come you're an Elf?"

"Was born that way."

Elrond graciously rescued the can of Diet Coke the Elf was waving about, so that he could hug Ivy back.

"I did miss you." She squeezed his neck harder - half choking and half-hugging him.

"Iv...might need to breathe here."

"We were in the same ceramics class my first semester--"she babbled, looking around as if to include Elrond in the conversation.

"Yeah, I know," said Dan. "Need to breathe, hey?"

"Elrond doesn't know."

"Yeah, he does. _Really_ need to breathe here, pet." Wheezing, he pulled on her elbows.

She let go his neck, only to shake him by the shoulders as a terrier might a rat. "You were my first friend - the _only_ friend I made that year. You were my lab partner for two semesters and...and you _promised_ to show me all those wicked cool techniques you had on the wheel, and you said you were coming back in the fall, but I never saw you again."

"I know." He cleared his throat and swallowed hard.

"You really are a wretch," Ivy said, sincere. "I cried when the registrar told me you weren't enrolled. You never came back, not once. I cried so hard, Dan."

"I'm really sorry, but I had to go." Setting his hands at her waist, the Elf lifted her onto his lap and braced his forehead against hers. "You have to know that one of the hardest things I've done in my life was leave you to find your way at school - which you were doing before I left, I might add."

"Only because you were helping me." Ivy looped her arms back around his neck. "What do you mean, you had to go?"

"You mother was coming home. You wanted to introduce us, remember? But she already knew me."

"My mother knew you?" Ivy sounded as doubtful as she felt.

"Yeah. She and I saw each other at these board meetings before you started uni. If you'd have introduced us, she'd have recognized me and found a way to make you quit school and gotten you out of our reach again."

"She wouldn't have done that - she couldn't," Ivy insisted. "I was eighteen, I decided all by myself where I was going to school. The student loans were mine, not hers. There's no way she could have interfered."

"Way," said Dan. "Trust me, Marian would have found one, and we didn't want to risk losing you again."

Ivy and rocked back on Dan's lap, the better to look him in the eye. "Who's this 'we'?"

"Dad and me, mostly."

"Dad who?"

He pointed at Elrond. "That's Dad."

The Elf-lord handed back the can of Diet Coke, which Dan promptly drained.

"Elrond is your Dad?" Ivy's brain clicked into gear reluctantly, and she turned her head to stare at Elrond. "He's your son?"

"He is."

"But he can't be. He's got this American accent, and he's gay--"

"I am not gay," Dan contradicted, "and the accent is solely for your benefit. It always has been, 'cause I wanted to make you feel comfortable around me. I figured you might need to feel comfy tonight."

"You think? Okay, this conversation is going way too fast." She squirmed as the heat from the fire became too much on her on her back. Sliding off of Dan's lap, Ivy took the hearth space Glorfindel had vacated earlier. "Could we back up a step?"

"Sure." Dan shrugged. "Whatever you want."

Wise Elrond remained silent and listened.

"You told me you were gay," Ivy insisted.

"I lied because I wanted to avoid complications."

"What complications?"

"You were in danger of liking me a little too much." Off of Ivy's blank look, Dan softly pointed out, "You're my sister, and a few weeks into the semester you started looking at me like--"

"Okay, fine," she said hurriedly. "But I have never had a brother."

"You do as far as we Elves are concerned. Listen carefully, you might get it." Gesturing at Elrond, Dan said very slowly, "He's my _father_, you're my _sister_, and I'm your _brother_. My name is Dan, right? That'd be short for...."

Dan raised his eyebrows and tilted his head forward, clearly expecting Ivy to connect the dots. "Aw, come on. I know you're not stupid, 'cause I never had to show you anything more than once, on or off the wheel."

Closing her eyes and rubbing the bridge of her nose, Ivy tried to concentrate. "I think the jetlag is winning. But fine, I'll play your game. If your name is Dan and Elrond is your father, then you're...."

Ivy's heart lurched as she realized what he was trying to tell her. Sitting straight up, she gripped the edge of the hearthstone so hard her fingers ached. Looking for from Dan to Elrond and back again, she squeaked, "You're _Elladan?"_

"Yeah," he nodded, satisfied. "I am." He tried taking another drink of Diet Coke, only to shake the can in disbelief when it came up empty.

Ivy took a moment to let her worldview settle once more. "Oh, wow. You say you're my brother, and your Dad says I'm his daughter, so you really mean it? I'm part of your family?"

"Sure - if you'll have us. Your mum never would." Elladan gave the crooked smile Ivy had come to love and miss so much since she'd last seen him. "Probably best to get to know us though, before making any rash decisions."

"Ivy has already agreed to return with me to Warra."

"Then again, if Adar has already lured you into joining us, I'm not about to issue needless warnings," Elladan contradicted himself, but with such a toothy grin that Ivy knew she was in no danger. Crinkling up his empty can, Elladan lobed it straight onto the top of the Vinotemp nearby, where it spun in place before settling down. "That should agitate Haldir when he comes back in here."

"Undoubtedly," Elrond said.

"Here I thought you'd be coming home with me, Ivy," said Elladan, "so I can teach you all those promised moves." His hands mimed working a potter's wheel, even as he mock-pouted. "I understand though. Dad has first dibs, 'cause he hasn't gotten to live with you for a year the way I did. You'll like Warra. It's a sanctuary and a haven like none you could ever imagine."

"You don't live there too?"

Elladan shook his head. "Not right now. I've a small cottage and a potter's studio in the village of Cilycwm in Wales, if that's anything to you."

"Um...not really."

"I thought not, but you're welcome to visit anytime. We cater to the locals as well as to the odd tourist - who has to be very odd to find us, since we're not on the way to anywhere. I exhibit a lot in London and Edinburgh and get a lot of commissions coming that way. Last century, I did the prototypes for the crockery and plates here, reproductions of which are sold in a quaint little shop down the hill. At least, I think I did them last century." He looked at his father. "Didn't I?"

"Does it matter?" Addressing Ivy, Elrond observed, "For some of us, the years crawl while the centuries fly. And then there is my son."

"Hey!"

"Is Elrohir in Wales, too?" Ivy asked.

"Nope," said Elladan. "He and his goth band are currently touring Russia. You saw him in concert and met him briefly in California, though."

"I did?"

"Yeah. Remember when I took you to see Shadowbox? Remember the surly frontman and composer? The one who hugged you so tightly after signing your CD that you thought he'd cracked one of your ribs?"

"Was he the guy who climbed the lighting scaffold and stomped across the stage as if he was executing roaches?"

"Yeah. His name's Rogue. As in El-Rogue-hir?"

"That's your twin brother?" Ivy was shocked. "You two don't look a thing alike."

"Well, no," Elladan agreed. "Not since he's gone goth, started wearing eyeliner, and gave himself a spiked mohawk with a long, white skunk-tail down the center of our black hair - his black hair, I mean - straight to his butt."

"Not to mention the scary multiple piercings in his ears and eyebrows," Ivy added.

"All of which he stole from the orcs," Elladan pointed out. "My brother sets off every metal detector in every airport he visits. He's been strip-searched so many times, I'm starting to think he likes it. Or not," the Elf quickly amended when Elrond caught his eye.

"Do you approve of what Elrohir's doing?" Ivy asked the deeply frowning Elf-lord.

"No."

Elladan glanced at his father, only to glance away quickly and wolf-grin at Ivy. "Um, let's talk about Rogue later. Hey, did you ever get rid of those worms that were camped out in your living room carpeting?"

"What did you just ask me?" Ivy stared at the Elf, incredulous.

"What worms?" Elrond asked, conveniently distracted from the issues regarding Elrohir.

"I can't believe you brought that up now, in front of your father," said Ivy.

"What carpet worms?" Elrond repeated.

"Let me explain," said Elladan. "Back in the early seventies, Grandmother Isabel installed orange shag carpeting in her living room. It was this neon stuff you had to rake to fluff it up, to make it stand up again after you'd walked on it. That carpeting was still there in the late nineties when I rented some sleeping space from Ivy, the better to keep an eye on her."

"I did not need you keeping an eye on me," she hissed.

"Take it up with Dad, he wanted me to. Anyway, I'm sleeping on the living room couch and wake up one Saturday morning to discover there are these things - they looked like little maggots - crawling around blindly where I spilled some chai the night before. Nobody in San Fran drinks coffee anymore, it's all chai or tea, see?"

"And you, being gay, had to visit Starbucks every Friday night," said Ivy. "I kept asking where you got your Starbucks money, and you kept brushing me off. Now I know."

"Hey, it's not like I drank it three times a day, like some people we knew. And I told you, I'm not gay. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever. Like I'd ever care who you sleep with."

Elladan narrowed his eyes. "You cared, little sister."

"What happened to the carpet worms?" Elrond pursued.

"Dan yelled for me to get out of bed and come look at them," Ivy took up the story. "I came, I saw, and I freaked like any normal person would do. I didn't have the money to rent a dumpster and get rid of the carpet, which is what it would take in the city. I also didn't have any money to fix the floor underneath or get new carpeting. The old stuff is still there."

"We picked up the worms with some paper towels," said Elladan.

"You mean I picked up the worms," Ivy contradicted, "because you were too busy going all shrieking hysterical, stereotypical drama queen on me."

"_She _threw them into the trash," Elladan confessed without looking at Ivy, "and I promised to stop spilling stuff on the rotten carpet."

"After that, he refused to step on the floor. I mean, seriously, if Dan wanted something out of my kitchen that's beyond the living room, he'd take off his shoes and make this flying leap from the front entry - which had a wood floor - and land on my easy chair, which looked like something out of reruns of 'Bewitched.' Then he'd tiptoe across the coffee table to reach the couch. He'd then brace his foot on the back of the couch, shift his weight forward, and make the couch fall backward so he could leap to the linoleum safety of the kitchen. It was disgusting."

"You didn't want to walk across the carpet either," Elladan challenged.

"Yeah, but I didn't walk on the furniture, did I? I just tiptoed around the edges of the room."

"Yeah, you did. Eeewing and icking all the way," said Elladan. "So, the carpet's still there?"

"Yes, it's still there because I still don't have the money to replace it, okay?"

"Did not Haldir set up a trust fund for you and make an initial deposit last week?" Elrond inquired.

"I don't know about any trust fund, but yeah, he did make a deposit with far too many zeroes into my account."

"You should receive at least one hundred fifty thousand pounds every six months from your shares of Greenwood Enterprises," Elrond said calmly. "I believe we might arrange to have the carpet removed before you return to San Francisco."

Ivy turned her attention to Elladan. "Why did you have to bring this up now? You know your Dad's not going to let this rest until I agree to let him at that carpet."

Elladan beamed beatifically at her. "Just helping out, sister."

"I do not need your help."

"Then why'd you miss me?"

Ivy was saved from answering as someone exclaimed, "What the bloody hell is that doing on top of my Vinotemp?"

Looking past Elrond, Ivy saw Haldir standing and glowering at her from the doorway. Her heart sank as she realized that because of the way the chairs were positioned, Haldir could see only her sitting on the hearth.

"Where's his hand?" whispered Elladan, folding up his long legs and sinking further out of sight in his chair. Elrond didn't move, but arched an eyebrow as if to indicate he wished to know as well.

Ivy looked. "Doorframe."

"Told you so," Elrond murmured.

It was all Ivy could do to keep a straight face when Haldir swung his gaze to nail her where she sat.

"Did you do that?" the former marchwarden demanded, "or was it Elladan? It has to be the one or the other of you, since you're the only two on the premises who drink that vile concoction that tastes like battery acid. So which of you did it?"

"Er, did what?" She stalled, just in case Elladan wanted to do the honorable thing by leaping up and admitting to the transgression.

"Left that bit of garbage for me to pick up. It's not as if I don't have enough to do to prepare for tomorrow, you lot have to make more work for me?"

"Dan did it." Ivy not only threw her brother under the bus, she pointed at him where he sat hidden in his chair.

Elladan made some small noise in protest, and Ivy smiled sweetly. Haldir stalked forward.

"Wormy paybacks are hell, big brother." She scooted further down the hearth, leaving Elladan to his fate.

"You will throw that away, won't you?" Haldir said sweetly, laying a hand across the back of Elladan's chair.

"I sure will."

"Immediately, if not sooner?" The marchwarden's impatient, clipped delivery made the hair on the back of Ivy's neck stand up. _Should he be talking to a warrior Elf in that tone of voice? _

Ivy watched as the expression on her friend's face went from guilty to pissed in less than a heartbeat. When he spoke, his accent had changed to one Ivy wasn't familiar with, and he sounded every bit as dangerous as Ivy knew Legolas could be.

"Bado mîbo orch," he growled.

"What did you say to me?" Haldir asked.

_I think Dan just told him to go kiss an orc,_ Ivy thought. _And I don't think I mistranslated, because we played at speaking Elvish, and I distinctly remember that particular insult. Uh-oh._

Unfolding from the chair, Elladan turned to face Haldir. Only then did Ivy realize Elrond's son was considerably taller than the marchwarden.

"I've told you before, Haldir. Don't address me like you're some nasty little Victorian judge and I'm a thieving street urchin you're about to sentence to the gallows."

"Then stop annoying me."

"Get a sense of humor, and you won't be annoyed."

"Haldir." Elrond spoke softly.

Ivy had very nearly forgotten the Elf-lord was there. From the way Haldir flinched, it was obvious he hadn't known Elrond was even in the area. To his credit, the Lorien Elf didn't scuttle out of the room the way Julien had scuttled down the hall. He did straighten his shoulders and turn to face the Elven lord squarely.

"Yes, Elrond?"

"I am very sorry to be the one to tell you the gilded mess in your receiving room is falling to pieces."


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

"Is the rococo finally collapsing?" Haldir looked inordinately pleased. "I was assured by the decorator that it would fall apart well before the new millennium. I am most pleased to hear it is happening at last."

"You actually want the walls to buckle and the ceiling to fall?" asked Ivy.

"How else am I to get rid of the gilded monstrosities in this castle?" Turning, Haldir looked from face to face. "Don't tell me you think I like those ghastly cherubs and all that accompanies them? Do you truly believe my personal taste is so horrid? Let me assure you, I have never been a fan of extreme rocaille."

"You're the one who put it up there," said Dan. "Why put it up if you don't like it?"

"Halden Greenwood met and entertained Mortal visitors in the affected rooms. The art was meant to be frivolous. It was also built to come down. Lee Greenwood will donate the antique furnishings to an Edinburgh charity, while the rooms themselves are gutted and restored to their former medieval glory."

"Why medieval?"

"Because that, dear girl, is one of Lee's favorite periods, if not _the_ favorite. We will naturally redecorate to suit his tastes."

"Lee? Don't you mean Legolas?" Ivy asked.

"No, I mean _Lee_. Legolas couldn't care less what style surrounds him or the affect it has on others. He's always been impossible when it has come time to create a new role for himself. The fact remains that certain rooms of Lairg Castle are dedicated to displaying the laird's life and status to the world of Men. We use those rooms - along with the car he drives and the cut of his suits - to help communicate the laird's personality and style."

"Have you told Legolas about the changes you have planned?" Dan asked. "'Cause last time I looked, this was his home, not a status symbol."

"It has become both," Haldir insisted. "The world has changed in Legolas' absence, and he has much to learn."

"I'm sure he can learn it without your gutting his home," Dan challenged. "Again."

"We shall see." Haldir turned back to Elrond. "How extensive is the damage to my receiving room?"

"Ivy and I fled a falling angel head and panels that were breathing at us. We were well-pounced by gilding on the way out, but shook it off in the front vestibule."

Haldir wrinkled his nose. "You mean to tell me that on top of everything else I need to Hoover the entry?"

"I can clean it up," Ivy volunteered, hearing another Elven argument in the making.

"You most certainly will not," said Elrond.

Ignoring the Elf-lord, Ivy leaned forward and grabbed Dan's knee. "Do you know where the vacuum cleaner's kept?"

"Sure."

"Ivy, you are not a servant," Elrond protested.

"Neither's Haldir. Dan will help me clean up."

"Right. Let's go." Grabbing Ivy's hand, the Elf towed her from the room. Once clear, he observed. "If you're going to hang out with Adar, you need to know it's a lot easier to ignore his protests and do what you want, than wait for him to stop talking."

Dan stopped in front of an wood panel next to the ballroom that looked like every other wood panel Ivy had seen so far in Castle Lairg, except that its wood was darker.

Slapping his hand against it, Dan said, "Behind this magnificent piece of oak is the elevator to the second floor and the north wing. That's where Dad and Glorfindel are staying, and where Legolas' private rooms are. You can't get there from here without knowing the secret to opening the panel and the code to punch in once you're inside the elevator."

"I see."

"I told you that just to torture you, 'cause we want the more humble broom closet next door. Press so and bingo." The door popped open as Dan triggered the hidden latch. Stepping inside, he retrieved the vacuum cleaner, which actually was a Hoover. "Where's this mess we're to clean up?"

"By the front door." Only half of Ivy's attention was on Dan, for Elrond was bearing down on them. Given the speed with which he was moving, the scowl on his face and the way his robes were billowing, Ivy didn't think it wise to let him catch up with them. "Elf-lord at twelve o'clock."

"Come on." With the Hoover in one hand, Dan grabbed Ivy by the other and jogged her down the hallway.

"Be careful of her wrist," Elrond called, halting at the broom closet and not pursuing them after all.

"What's wrong with your wrist?" asked Dan.

"Julien mauled it." Glancing back, Ivy saw the Elf-lord disappear into the now open elevator.

"And Julien yet lives?" Dan asked, incredulous.

"Your father said he'd would be dealt with, whatever that means."

"It means Julien won't get a second chance at you, that's what it means. Don't be surprised if he shows up damaged tomorrow. Once Legolas finds out you were attacked in his territory...well, Julien will be dealt with, as Adar said."

The vestibule was as empty as the rest of the house. Ivy stood and gnawed on a thumbnail while Dan slipped inside the crumbling receiving room to find an electrical outlet.

"Where is everyone?" she asked when he returned.

"Haldir's bothering Erestor in the kitchen about stuff being ready for the morning. You saw where my Dad went, and I'd imagine Glorfindel's up there with Legolas as well. Julien and the others have relocated to Haldir's library by now because they're trying to avoid talking to Dad. From the way Haldir's been running back and forth, it looks like the old Inverness libations in the library Vinotemp aren't pleasing his guests, so the marchwarden was in the dining hall grabbing the good stuff from Oz. And no, you're not cleaning this carpet." Dan grabbed at the handle before Ivy could close her fingers around it. "Adar would never forgive me if I let you."

Switching on the Hoover, Dan made short work of the gilded mess. Slipping inside the receiving room, Ivy pulled out the plug and retrieved the cord before Dan could do it, only to emerge and discover Elrond had joined them.

The Elf-lord's disapproving glance - first at the door of the stricken room and then at Ivy - was enough to tell her he wasn't happy. Rather than chastise her, however, Elrond handed Ivy a small green jar.

It was a pretty, hand-blown thing. Turning it between her fingers, she enjoyed how the black, spider-webbed glass caught the light. "What's this?"

"It contains the salve I wished to get for you earlier. Apply it before going to sleep, and your wrist should feel less sore in the morning."

"Thank you." Unscrewing the cap, she sniffed only to recap the jar and grin up at Dan. "Your mother was a hamster."

"And my sister will smell of elderberries," he promptly rejoined, much to Elrond's evident confusion. "Um...pop-culture reference to a movie you've probably never seen. Unless you've an objection, Adar, I'm not inclined to return the Hoover to its closet tonight."

"I suppose we can't let Haldir go to bed happy." Elrond's expression was as bland as his tone. "Speaking of bed, I believe that's where the two of you need to be heading?"

Dan's arm was immediately around Ivy's waist and hugging her close. "I'll walk her up, see her safely to her room."

"That is well."

"Good-night...um...what should I call you?" Ivy stammered at the Elf-lord.

"You may call me father, Adar, or Elrond - whatever you are most comfortable with." Taking her gently by the shoulders, he leaned down to brush her forehead lightly with his lips. "Sleep well. I will see you in the morning."

Ivy was startled, but not at all displeased at the gesture. _I can't remember ever having been kissed good-night before._

"And you can call me Dan. Whenever someone calls me by my full name, I know I'm in trouble." He nudged a bemused Ivy none too subtly toward the steps.

As Ivy climbed, she knew without glancing back that Elrond would be watching and guarding from the foot of the stairs until both of his children were out of sight. "He's really protective, isn't he?"

"You have no idea, but you will. Hey, we made it through the evening," Dan observed as they entered her room.

"Yeah, but _you_ didn't get a good-night kiss from your father."

"I feel so neglected." Going to the hearth, Dan scraped back the ashes, laid a fire from the wood-box, and snatched a handful of kindling. "Has anyone taught you how to start one of these, so you don't keep needing us to do it for you?"

"No, but I've started my own fires at home. Is it all that different?" she asked, kneeling beside him.

"Not much, and you should be good 'cause you haven't burned down your house. What you set in here has to be a lot smaller because this firebox is smaller." He patted the fireplace wall. "The flue's already open and the damper's set. Matches are here, wood and kindling's there, and don't use more than three baby logs to start." He handed her the matches.

Ivy managed to light the fire on the first try, which she knew saved her from being heckled. Leaving her soaking up the heat, Dan went to the French windows. Shoving back the curtains, he checked the locks and peered out at the night-world beyond.

_Can Elves see in the dark?_ she wondered.

"Okay, I've got to ask," Dan said, letting the curtains fall and turning around. "Why does your bed smell so bad?"

"What, huh?"

"Your bed. Adar was in here earlier while you were napping--"

"He was _what_?" Visions of Elven stalkerness danced in her head.

"Don't go all outraged, he didn't mean any harm." The Elf settled himself in the cross-frame chair beside the fireplace. "He wanted to see for himself that you were really here and all right."

"I could have left embarrassing stuff laying around!"

"Not that I can see." Dan surveyed the room. "No frilly magazines, no skimpy under-things. Sorry, but you're as boring as I remember. Adar said your bed stank so I have to ask why, because he was right. I can smell it from here."

"It's probably the bearskin coat Legolas gave me," Ivy admitted, resigned to everyone but her disliking it.

"Yeah, that sounds about right. Nothing like ripe Elf and dirty bear combined to offend our father's senses. If you sleep with that thing, you'd better take a shower in the morning. If you want to keep it, you really need to get it professionally cleaned, else I've no doubt Adar will disappear it at the earliest opportunity."

Ivy felt an unreasonable amount of panic at the thought of losing the coat. _It's irreplaceable, and HE gave it to me. I don't want to lose it. Not only that, it's warm._ "How am I supposed to get it cleaned?"

"Tell you what. I'll take it with me when I leave and drop it off with a furrier in London. They'll send it back here when it's done, so it'll be waiting all clean and fresh for you next winter. It's not like you're going to need it in Oz before then, it's high summer there right now."

"You'd do that for me?" She felt like hugging him, but was too tired to get up and do it.

"I don't mind. It gives me an excuse to visit a couple of booksellers in Knightsbridge. Elrohir's room is next door, and it's empty. We could store it in there until I leave."

"If it really smells that bad--"

"Trust me. It smells that bad. Like something mated and died in it. Several times."

"Okay, take it," Ivy said quickly, not giving herself time to change her mind. "Just please don't lose it?"

"I won't."

"It'll be a cold night without it, though," she said wistfully.

"Your hutch chest has extra blankets."

"My what-who?"

Dan thumped the sturdy wooden box next to his chair. "This. Medieval hutch chest made by Legolas. Holds linens and things like warm woolly blankets that you put on the bed to keep yourself warm. Nobody told you they were there?"

"I'm wondering how you knew they were there."

"Every room has one, you ninny, because Legolas tries to anticipate everybody's needs and pretty much succeeds since he's been playing host to various people for a very long time. Stupid housekeeper should have told you. Unless it's Haldir wanting something, she's worthless. Anyway..."

Getting to his feet, Dan threw back the lid of the chest. Gathering three thick blankets, the Elf tossed them onto the bed. "If you don't think that's enough, we can invade my brother's room and steal his."

"I'm sure that's fine," Ivy said vaguely, too busy admiring the brilliant red, green and black tartan weave on each blanket.

"Hey, little sister." Dan waited until Ivy's attention turned back to him. "I know you're used to having to do everything by yourself, but you're not alone anymore, okay? Especially not if you're letting Adar into your life. He's fretted and wanted to take care of you for years. You can have him - and us - involved your life as much or as little as you want. You just have to tell us how much that is."

Ivy sighed and ran a hand through her tangled hair. "All I want right now is to keep warm tonight, so that I can sleep and get through the meeting tomorrow - later today, I guess it is now. I can't think past that, though I do want to see Warra."

"Fair enough." Dan nodded. "You've met most of the family tonight, so that's done. You could ask Adar for some quick advice at breakfast about the meeting, but it should all be over by noon. The nasty bits, anyway."

"Are the rest of the board members scary?"

"Not really. We're just cliquish because some of us survived the War of the Ring and some of us were born afterward. There's always a bit of a generation gap and clash going on because some members were born a long after the Fourth Age began."

"Like Julien?"

"Yeah. Like him. The later someone was born, the more they seem to be involved in the world of Men. You can generally tell at a glance which is which, and you'll likely decide to align yourself with one side or the other once you know all of us a little better. For now, though, you should get some sleep."

Getting to his feet and stepping over Ivy easily with his long legs, Dan headed for the door.

"Wait." Lurching up from the hearth, Ivy sorted through the bedclothes to find the bearskin parka. "Don't forget to take this."

"Thanks. I promise to keep it safe and sound." He backed toward the door. "Be sure to lock this after me, 'cause you don't know what old Elf might wander in these days. Some have a real problem with privacy."

It was said with a grin, but Ivy thought it sounded like a good plan.

Dan touched her nose. "G'night, Iv."

A few minutes later, after brushing her teeth and making sure she applied the salve Elrond had given her, Ivy climbed gratefully into bed. With a very warm room and more than enough blankets, she thought she might actually sleep, especially given how very tired she was. Adrenaline had helped get her through the evening, but that was long gone.

Shortly after she turned off the light, Ivy head someone tried the bedroom door knob. She'd locked it as Dan suggested, and whoever it was went away without knocking. As she drifted off to sleep, she thought she heard someone's footsteps crunch in the snow on the balcony. She definitely heard the latch rattle on the French doors.

_How sweet of Legolas to make sure everything's locked up tight,_ she thought on the edge of sleep.


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

An Elf-lord was loitering outside Ivy's door when she emerged the next morning.

"Are you lurking for me?" she couldn't resist asking, even as she admired how authoritative and elegant Elrond looked in his grey robes. _The braiding in his hair is different from last night and so intricate, does he do that himself?_

Elrond smiled down at her. "I do not lurk. I have, however, been waiting patiently to escort you to breakfast. I also would like you to meet another member of our board."

He stepped back to reveal the female Elf who had been hidden behind his broad frame. "Verce, I would like to introduce you to my daughter, Ivy MacLeod. Ivy, this is Mona Williams, who is known among us as Verce."

Blessed with a regal bearing and the sort of ethereal porcelain beauty that could stop both men and women in their tracks, the Elf looked far too small and insubstantial standing next to the Elf-lord.

"How lovely that you have a new daughter, Elrond, and one so lovely. Welcome, my dear."

Verce's voice was as delicate as the thin, pale hand she offered Ivy. Shaking Verce's hand, Ivy discovered the fragile-looking bird-bones were stronger than they looked as the Elf's firm grip matched Ivy's and then some.

_I'm starting to think nothing in the Elven world is the way it looks on the surface._ Much to her relief, she managed to escape with all her painting fingers intact. "I'm happy to meet you."

"It is an honor to meet you, Queen's Daughter. I hope you'll be happy among us." Verce's expression was welcoming, but her eyes were cool.

"I'm sure I will be." _Is she being sincere or just polite?_ Ivy wondered. _I can't tell, but I'd bet she's on her best behavior in front of Elrond. I wonder what sort of reception I'd get if we spontaneously met out here._

"Verce runs our Belgian import company," Elrond imparted.

"My father and my mate founded it, but they have been gone Oversea for some years."

"That sounds terribly lonely," Ivy murmured. "It must be difficult for you."

The Elf's pale blue eyes thawed just a little. "At times, it can be very difficult."

"Ivy and I are on our way down to breakfast." Elrond laid a hand across Ivy's shoulder. "Would you care to join us?"

"Your invitation is most gracious, but I am waiting for Tamurile." To Ivy, Verce said, "Kiki is her Mortal name. She runs our import company in Los Angeles."

"I see."

Ivy didn't know the first thing about import companies, and hoped it wouldn't matter in the next five minutes. Feeling suddenly overwhelmed and insecure in a strange and very adult Elven world symbolized by perfectly poised Verce, Ivy instinctively stepped closer to Elrond. His hand instantly engulfed hers, and she thought she might weep later in appreciation of his constant strength and unconditional support.

"Very well, Verce. We shall see you at the meeting." The Elf-lord tightened his grip slightly. Come, Ivy."

Elrond struck out for the stairs. Ivy was grateful she'd seen him in motion the night before, for it had prepared her for the rate at which his long legs covered the distance. He did slow going down the stairs, but only minimally.

"Thank you for waiting for me, because I'm not feeling all that brave this morning," Ivy confessed as they reached the ground floor.

"I thought that might be the case given the overwhelming introduction we subjected you to last night."

"I'm okay with most of you. Really." Following Elrond into the dining room, Ivy realized she was enjoying to an absurd degree the right she had to be with him. "Especially with you."

"It brings me great joy to know that. I had worried that you might wish to keep your distance from me, as your mother did." Handing Ivy a plate, Elrond guided her toward the buffet. "As for feeling braver, I long ago discovered most things become less intimidating on a full stomach."

"I know you're right, but will I have to meet more Elves this morning?"

"We are among the last to dine this morning, and the meeting will begin soon. Without my direct invitation, I doubt anyone will dare to approach our table."

_It's good to be with the king. _Ivy sat next to the Elrond at the long table. "Is it wrong for me to feel relieved about that?"

"Not at all." Pouring a glass of orange juice, Elrond pointedly set aside the Diet Coke that Ivy had selected for herself and placed the juice before her. "You knew nothing of our existence, and it is unfair for us to have immersed you so abruptly and so completely. You are doing remarkably well, considering the ongoing stress and strangeness we are subjecting you to."

Glancing at Ivy's plate, Elrond did a double-take. "Earlier this morning, Erestor voiced some concern that you might take a page from Legolas' book and be too nervous to eat. He will be pleased to know he was wrong."

Following his gaze, Ivy was beyond appalled to see the huge selection of scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage, sautéed mushrooms, hash browns and fresh tomato slices she'd selected. Feeling herself flush with embarrassment, she stammered, "I was listening to...I didn't realize...would you like some of this?"

"Thank you, no. I have my own." His own was wheat toast, a selection of fresh fruit and a mug of tea. "Eat what you want and feel free to leave the rest. Erestor will not be offended as long as you do not reject his lunch as well."

Taking up his fork, Elrond began eating. The faintest tremor showed in his hands.

_Why do I have the feeling the Lord of Imladris isn't as cool, calm and collected about this meeting as he'd have me believe?_ Taking a deep, slow breath before starting in on her breakfast, Ivy wished she dared to reach for the Diet Coke he'd stolen.

"As you're an artist," Elrond said, every bit the diplomat and distraction, "you might be interested in knowing that our Verce was the model who posed for Philip Burne-Jones' most famous painting."

Not wanting to shatter the web of security the Elf-lord was working so hard to weave about her, Ivy struggled to shift her mental focus from the Elven problem to British Pre-Raphaelite art.

"Do you mean 'The Vampire'?" she asked, remembering a late-Victorian oil featuring a male victim sprawled on his back in bed while a beautiful woman with a dark, victorious smile leaned over him.

"'A fool there was and he made his prayer/To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair.'" Elrond quoted Kipling's poem that Ivy knew had been inspired by the oil. "The very same."

"Verce doesn't look a thing like that," Ivy protested. "I also seem to remember reading that Mrs. Patrick Campbell was the love-struck artist's model, after she let him down?"

"Did you also read Burne-Jones' protestations to the contrary when the painting was first exhibited in 1897?"

"I don't think so. How did Verce meet Philip Burne-Jones?"

"In 1895, she owned a bookstore in Brussels. They met when Philip came searching for a book on succubi. I do not know if he ever got his book, but he began his preliminary drawings in Belgium. He also paid Verce a certain sum each day to pose for him."

"Huh." Ivy reached stealthily for her can of Diet Coke, only to think better of it, considering the currently dormant power and possible reaction of her companion. "I like the technique in the younger Burne-Jones' pen and ink illustrations, but most people aren't aware of those. Did you know him?"

"Elladan did. They forged a lasting friendship after Verce introduced them, and Elladan helped Philip catalogue, photograph and dispense his father's works after Sir Edward died in 1898." Having finished his breakfast, Elrond pushed back from the table. "And there is my youngest son now."

Yawning his way across the room, Dan fell into the chair opposite Ivy and his father. "'Morning, you two. Were you talking about me?"

"Actually," said Elrond. "We were talking about you and Philip Burne-Jones."

"How did he come up at breakfast?"

Ivy waved her juice at him before taking a sip. "'The Vampire.'"

"Oh. And which one of you brought up that weird breakfast topic?" Dan snagged a piece of leftover toast from his father's plate.

Ivy pointed at Elrond.

"Wow, color me surprised. I thought ghoulish art would have been more your style, sister." Dan grinned at Ivy's soft whimper of protest - all she dared with Elrond sitting right there. "Philip could have been a brilliant artist, you know?"

"Why wasn't he?" asked Elrond.

"Two things worked against him." Dan caught the jar his father directed toward him across the table.

_Tiptree Scarlet Jam,_ Ivy read the label as it slid by. _I hope that's strawberry._

"The first problem," said Dan, slathering his toast with the jam, "is that Philip never needed to work because he inherited his father's money and baronetage. The second was that no matter what he did as an artist, Philip thought his works would always be unfavorably compared to his father's. He always seemed hesitant and unhappy. Sad, really."

Popping the last bit of toast into his mouth, Dan spoke around it as someone called his name from across the room. "Gotta go. See you two upstairs."

Ivy watched as the Elven warrior joined Glorfindel and two female Elves at the fireplace. Catching Ivy's eye, Glorfindel winked and raised his mug to her.

_I'll bet Elrond doesn't make him drink orange juice. _Ivy waved back and quickly asked. "Who are they talking to?"

"The slender, dark-haired woman is Kate Hutton, known to us as Sindohte," said Elrond. "A theatrical producer in New York, she was born and raised there in the 1800s as Julien was raised in London. Sindohte's parents still reside in Manhattan, but she replaced her mother on our board after her older brother was lost in the Great War.

"The other woman is Marina Palermo, known to us as Alasse. She is a museum director who also runs a small press. Alasse and Sindohte are fast friends and sometimes business partners. Both are currently active in New York society, serving on several theatrical and arts boards."

Ivy found herself flinching when Julien strode into the room with his chin held high and his hands squeezed into tight fists. To Ivy's relief, he didn't spare her so much as a glance before heading straight for the group at the fireplace. A bored looking female Elf with short-cropped black hair and a solid black jumpsuit that looked painted on followed in his wake.

Leaning over Sindohte's chair, Julien whispered something into her ear before whirling and heading out the door as quickly as he'd come. The black-haired girl stayed behind to sidle close to Elladan and smile up at him in rapturous attention.

"Who's the girl languishing at Dan?"

"That would be Julien's sister, Wendy." Elrond sounded amused at Ivy's impertinence. "Julien's Elven name is Morno, while Wendy's is Tarwe, but both prefer to be called by their Mortal names."

"Well, then. I'll do my best to call her Wendy and him Morno. Not that I want to tweak the tail on the Elven donkey or anything."

"Of course not."

Dismissing the other Elves for the moment, Ivy turned back to Elrond. "Not to change the subject or anything, but I need to ask if you have any last-minute, sage advice for me regarding this board thing? Or are you part of the Elven conspiracy to keep me honest by keeping me ignorant?"

"I am indeed part of the conspiracy to keep your vote honest," Elrond admitted, "but there are still a few things I may suggest. The most important is that you should not be afraid to trust what your instincts tell you about the presentations we will hear. That applies to the presenters as well. You should also not forget that you are Queen's Daughter. You carry the blood of Elven kings and are wiser than you think you are. You have every right to be here with us."

"I'm only twenty-four," she protested. "I'm not wise."

"No? I suggest we table that argument for now, as we have a meeting to get through. Listen to the arguments presented and learn what you can from them. And then..." Elrond spread his hands before him. "Vote with your heart."

Ivy threw up her hands. "That's what everybody's telling me, but it makes no sense."

"At the moment, I imagine it does not. If you do not feel confident to trust your feelings when the voting begins, then I suggest you select someone you trust and vote as they do."

"Like you?"

"If that is your choice, yes." Elrond rose from the chair, his robes flowing like an elegant silver waterfall. "I believe it is time we went upstairs."

# #

"This will hardly do." Haldir was fussing around the snack-laden tea trolley at the entrance to his library as Elrond and Ivy approached. Giving Ivy a harried glance, he muttered, "Hello, good morning. Excuse me, Elrond, but I need to talk to you about the crumpets. Could we perhaps tell Erestor we've just had breakfast, which means they shouldn't be here?"

The dignified Elf-lord of Australia was reduced to dutifully studying the snacks in question. Ivy would have remained stoically at his side, had she not spied Legolas sitting by himself at the long table where Haldir had trapped her the day before.

The Elf seemed to be staring at the table, but he lifted his head as Ivy approached. His expression was guarded, while his blue eyes were filled with a wariness Ivy wished she understood. His skin was as translucent as Glorfindel's in the morning light - far more pale than Ivy remembered it appearing. Rather than fading, the dark circles beneath Legolas' eyes were even more pronounced than they had been when Ivy had last seen him.

"Good morning," she said softly.

"Mara tuilë," Legolas returned just as quietly and sounding as if the day were anything but good. He turned a small folded white card round and round between his fingers, and Ivy noticed other cards like it were set before each chair at the table.

Leaning forward, she inspected the exquisite calligraphy on the one closest to her, only to recognize it as Haldir's work and see that it had her name on it. Thankfully, the chair it sat before was opposite Legolas.

"There's assigned seating?" she asked.

"It seems so today," Legolas confirmed.

Ivy stole a look at the name on the place card next to her chair. Much to her relief, it had Dan's name on it. Taking her seat quickly, lest Haldir swoop down and tell her she shouldn't be sitting there after all, Ivy made a boarding-house grab at the card gracing the head of the table.

_If Legolas isn't sitting at the head, then who...oh, thank the gods, it's Elrond. _She pushed the card back in its place. Folding her hands on the edge of the table, she regarded the Elf opposite her, who seemed to have resumed studying the polished wood.

"So, let me see..." Ivy began and waited until his pale, unhappy blue eyes lifted to meet hers once again. "Your back's to the window, and you're facing the door. I'd say that means you're not about to let yourself be cornered, and no one can sneak up on you, either."

Leaning forward, she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I think we've been here and seen this before. On your jet."

Legolas nodded but did not speak.

_He looks like he's attending his own execution,_ Ivy thought. _What is wrong with this meeting? _She tried again. "I thought you'd be sitting at the head of the table. You know, conducting the meeting?"

"That is Elrond's privileged duty."

Glorfindel came around the table then which forestalled any further conversation. Laying a hand on his son's shoulder, the Elf-lord squeezed it gently before claiming the place next to Legolas.

"These chairs are always too close together," he murmured, sliding into his seat.

Legolas gave no answer but continued staring at the table.

_So are the seating assignments deliberate? _Ivy wondered. _Is Glorfindel acting as a physical buffer between Legolas and the rest of the board? I've got Elrond on my right at the head of the table and Dan on my left to act as my buffer? Who else is near-by? _

A squinting glance at the place card beyond Dan's made her think Haldir might be sitting there.

Turning toward Legolas, Glorfindel began speaking intently in a language that sounded close to Sindarin, but the inflection was different and Ivy couldn't catch any basic words. _That sounds nothing like what Legolas was speaking to Haldir over his cell phone._

Legolas replied in kind to his father, so that within seconds the two were deep in conversation and seemed entirely oblivious to anyone else in the room.

_How wicked cool is it that I get to watch them together? Up close and personal, their resemblance is even stronger. Though Glorfindel only looks anxious. Legolas looks beyond grim. _

Someone slid a Diet Coke in front of Ivy, which made her jump. Taking the chair beside her, Dan wheeled closer offered the same warm grin she'd grown used to seeing every morning when he'd roomed with her five years before.

"Did you sleep well last night with all those blankets smothering you?

"Yeah, I did. Thanks for pointing them out to me."

Dan grumbled while fidgeting to get his chair set just right, while Glorfindel and Legolas were still deep into it. Ivy watched Glorfindel turn his chair sideways - the better to lower his voice and continue the conversation - while Legolas sat very still and continued staring at his notepad. Nothing was written on the pad, but Ivy recognized the gel pen resting to its side as the same one she'd given him on the plane. Regardless the thick stack of papers she'd seen him studying earlier, it appeared Legolas had brought nothing to the meeting except the naked notepad.

A single folder sat before Elrond's place at the head of the table. Ivy was tempted to look through the papers secreted there, if only to sneak a look at the meeting's agenda, but something told her it was best not to even try. Especially since the missing members of the board seemed to be arriving now, and any grab Ivy made for the folder would definitely be noticed.

The new Elves were definitely casting looks her way. Ivy didn't know whether to feel intimidated by they scrutiny or stick out her tongue at them.

_Better to behave, _she decided, though it was tempting.

She returned Haldir's smile and his murmured good morning from the other side of Dan before sinking down farther in her chair. Ivy recognized some of the other Elves that Elrond had taken the time to point out to her, like Verce, who nodded at Ivy as she preceded Julien's sister around the table. The conversation on the other side of the table continued without acknowledging Haldir's arrival.

Leaning against Dan's solid, comforting shoulder, Ivy whispered, "I can't understand a word Legolas and Glorfindel are saying. Are they speaking some strange dialect of Sindarin?"

"Nope, it's Gondolic. They're the only ones left this side of Valinor who can speak it, because everyone who didn't die when Gondolin was invaded by Morgoth has gone Oversea. Those two use it when they don't want to be overheard."

"Oh." Ivy fell silent as Elrond glided up to the head of the table. Not only did Imladris's master of lore seem terribly tall and imposing this morning, his gaze seemed this side of cold and ominous as he surveyed the table.

_Am I sure he's the same Elf-lord who welcomed me so warmly last night?_ Ivy marveled.

"Our board meeting is due to begin. As you can see, we are short one member. Wendy, do you happen to know where your brother is?"

The raven-haired Elf waved away the question as though it were an annoying insect. "I've no idea. Julien has never let me baby-sit him."

Elrond's expression became darker, but he nodded acknowledgement of the answer. "We shall begin without Julien. As always, this meeting is being video taped for legal and security reasons."

_It is?_ Ivy glanced surreptitiously about the room. _Where's the camera?_

"For the sake of our corporate minute transcription," Elrond continued, "please be sure to use your Mortal names beginning now."

Ivy's heart rate increased as she felt someone else enter the library. _I'll bet that's Julien because my hair's standing on end. Besides, he's the only one missing._

Half-turning, she saw that Julien was indeed making his way down the table. He was dressed in what Ivy assumed had once been a perfectly tailored and very expensive black silk suit. _Is that an Armani? _Mud was smeared across Julien's back, and he was walking with a definite limp. Not only that, but the slender Elf openly winced as he rounded the table and pushed back his chair to stand opposite Elrond at the end of the table. His perpetual smirk had been replaced with a rather sullen, aggrieved expression, which for some reason pleased Ivy

_What happened to him?_ she wondered. _He wasn't limping when he made his entrance in the dining hall this morning._

She couldn't help but contrast Julien's disheveled appearance against Elrond's immaculate demeanor, for the two Elves couldn't have appeared more different if they had deliberately tried. There stood Julien with his dark ringlets cut short in a very Mortal style, and his pointed ears covered by the fringes of his hair. Elrond's waist-length black hair flowed free across his shoulders, and he stood with all the dignity his station and wisdom could afford. His expression inscrutable, he watched Julien's progress.

Setting a thick presentation binder before him, Julien opened it with his left hand, which was shaking. His right arm, Ivy noted, was held against his body at an odd, tense angle.

"Aren't you the embarrassment?" Wendy hissed. "Not only are you late, you're filthy."

"Sorry," came the sullen apology. "I was...unavoidably delayed."

Wendy sniffed. "Maybe you should have delayed a bit longer and changed your clothes."

Leaning against Ivy's shoulder, Dan whispered for her ears only, "I told you Julien would show up damaged this morning."

Startled to remember who would have been the one to damage the Elf, Ivy glanced across the table only to lock eyes with Legolas, who seemed to be watching her reaction carefully.

_Did you - _she mouthed at Legolas before cocking her head Julien's way.

Legolas gave a tight smile - more of a satisfied smirk, really - before nodding ever so slightly.

Ivy's grin was so wide, it hurt her lips. _Thank you,_ she mouthed.

"I am not concerned for your apparel, Julien Lovell." Elrond's tone was biting and caustic in a way Ivy hadn't heard before. Moving past Legolas and Glorfindel, the Elf-lord stalking toward the other end of the table. "What does concern me is your chronic lateness to these meetings and the implication your time is more important than ours. This shows a singular lack of respect for your fellow board members."

Sorting through his papers, Julien didn't even bother looking up. "It's not my fault I was detained by one of your precious board members. I'm here now, so let's get to it." He handed a stack of folders to the Elf on his right, whom Ivy thought was Sindohte. "Pass round these handouts, would you?"

"I warned you this past June that there would be certain consequences if you were late again."

Julien jumped to realize Elrond was no longer at the opposite end of the table, but was standing practically on top of him. Staring up at the Elf-lord, the shorter Elf narrowed his eyes.

"I seem to recall some sort of threat was issued. But we both know you wouldn't dare."

"Indeed?" Grabbing Julien by the back of the collar, Elrond began hauling him down the length of the table.

"What the bloody hell?" The Elf howled. "Take your hands off me!"

"All in good time." The ease with which the Elf-lord moved made the Julien's weight seem as nothing despite his flailing arms, inevitable shocked screeching and impotent dragging of feet.

Moving behind Haldir's desk, Elrond held onto his quarry and flipped up the window latch. The ancient glass groaned in its frame - a deep, moaning protest before Elrond shoved Julien head first through the open window. The Elf's suited torso and violently thrashing legs followed, only to be dispatched downward with a quick push. A muffled thump followed by a yelp confirmed Julien's landing below.

"If you are late again," Elrond called out the window, "you will find yourself once more thrust outside and the front door locked against you."

Closing and locking the window against the shouted curses and epithets floating up from below, Elrond turned and strode back to the head of the table. Glancing round the table, he settled into his chair as though tossing tardy Elves out of windows was an everyday occurrence.

"Let us begin."

"What about Julien?" Ivy hissed at Dan.

"He'll fight free of the gorse bushes he landed in and eventually find the front door."

"But it's wet and snowing out there!"

"So?" Dan looked at her mildly. "Then I guess he'll be cold and wet by the time he gets back in. Easier landing than he deserved, though."

_Good point,_ thought Ivy. Part of her was a bit shocked at the violence Elrond had just proven himself capable of, but most of her was cheering. _I think one thing's for sure: these Elves say what they mean and do what they say they'll do. Two transgressions on Julien's part, and two consequences followed. Sorry, Mom. You were right, Elves are dangerous. But I think I'm going to like having them in my life. _


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

"Let the record show that on the twenty-first of December, Greenwood Limited's board meeting began at ten-fifteen in the morning. All members are in attendance, with the exception of David Meyler, who is absent with regrets."

"Who's that?" Legolas heard Ivy whisper to Elladan.

"My brother," Elladan whispered back. Taking a folded sheet of paper from his pocket, the Elf passed it to Ivy. "Hand this on to Elden, please?" Addressing his father, Elladan continued, "That's a proxy signed by David. Unless I indicate otherwise, his vote during this meeting is the same as mine."

"Very well." Elrond tucked the paper into the stack before him. "Our first item of business is to approve the minutes of our last board meeting on the twenty-first of June, as posted to each of us via email. All of those in favor, please raise your hand." Elrond looked around the table. "I see eleven in favor with Julien's vote pending. Ivy, did you receive a copy of the minutes?"

"No."

The front door slammed downstairs. _So help me,_ thought Legolas, _if Julien cracks a window I will lock him in the old Dwarven tunnels where there is no glass to break._

"It was in the packet I faxed you in New York," said Haldir from his place next to Elladan.

Ivy shook her head. "I'm sorry, I didn't see it."

"I kept it," Legolas spoke up.

Julien shot Elrond a resentful look as he limped back to his chair. His curls were in disarray and an assortment of leaves and winter-puny yellow flowers nested in them. His expensive black suit was wet and torn in places, while his white shirt was so smeared with mud that Legolas thought the gorse must have had much fun trying to keep the wayward Elf in its clutches.

"Does that mean you don't share well with others?" Julien snapped.

"It means Ivy is not yet an official member of this _private _board," Legolas shot back. "I thought it best from a legal standpoint not share the minutes with her."

Elrond nodded. "Your concern is valid and well within the legalities governing us. Ivy, you might consider abstaining from this vote."

It wasn't a request.

"Okay, I abstain."

"Julien?"

Looking irritated, he plucked at his torn sleeve. "By all means, approve the damn things and let's get on with it."

"Let the record show that June's minutes are accepted with twelve votes in favor, none against, and one abstention," said Elrond. "Our next item is to announce the departure of an old member of the board, and to vote on a new member. Earlier this week and through her daughter, Marian Hamilton MacLeod notified Halden Greenwood of her intent to vacate her seat on this board. Marian put forth her daughter, Ivy MacLeod, as her replacement."

Moving behind Ivy, Elrond placed his hands on her shoulders. "Ivy, Would you like to say a few words to introduce yourself?"

The girl stiffened where she sat, and Legolas saw the panic rise sharp and strong in her blue eyes. Her gaze locked into his, its message transparent. _Some warning would have been nice._

"Stand up," Elladan whispered.

Pushing back her chair, Ivy rose reluctantly as all eyes turned her way. Some expressions were curious and welcoming, others looked bored or put out. The pause lengthened, and Julien gave her a glare, apparently to prod Ivy into speaking. His hostile expression was marred by a small, damp flower falling from his hair and onto the table in front of him.

_It no doubt frightens her to address the board first thing this morning, _thought Legolas, _but she has to learn sometime, as did Aragorn._

"Um...I'm Ivy. I live in San Francisco, and Marian's my mother, but...I guess you all know that."

Stepping closer, Elrond put his arm around Ivy's shoulders before bending and whispering so softly into her ear that Legolas hadn't a hope of catching what was said. Taking a deep breath, Ivy swallowed hard and nodded in response to his words. Elrond continued as she gnawed her bottom lip and looked across to Legolas without really seeing him. Her eyes cleared and she looked a fraction less scared as Elrond stepped away, leaving her to stand on her own.

_So Elrond and Ivy have forged some sort of connection in the short time they've been acquainted?_ _That's quite the miracle given Elrond's reserve, but why didn't he warn her she'd have to address these people?_

Ivy tried again. "It's a pleasure to meet all of you. I'm eager to hear more about Greenwood's ventures, and I hope you'll be patient with me while I learn how you do things. I'll help any way I can, as soon as I know how to help." Ducking her head, she glanced at Elrond. "Is that enough?"

"It is."

The Elf-lord looked inordinately pleased as Ivy sank back into her chair, and Legolas wondered if the girl's introduction had served as some sort of initial test. _It wouldn't be the first time. Elrond has always had his ways of assessing someone's mettle in a very short time._

"Are you willing to serve as a member of Greenwood's board?" Elrond pursued.

"Yes."

Legolas noted there was no alarm or hesitation in Ivy's voice when she was talking to Lord Elrond. _What magic did they work on each other when meeting last night, that he does not intimidate her and she is comfortable with his touching her as would a father?_

"Those in favor of having Ivy MacLeod as a member to Greenwood's board of directors--"

A chorus of ayes.

"Those against?"

Silence.

"Welcome, daughter."

Ivy visibly exhaled the breath she'd been holding, and Elladan patted her hand before sliding closer the forgotten can of Diet Coke. Popping the top, Ivy took a sip. Legolas had the feeling it was more to give her hands something to do than because she felt any real thirst.

"From this point on, my dear, you are free to cast your vote in all matters pertaining to Greenwood."

Elrond shuffled through his papers, and Legolas felt the Elf-lord's tension rise as he separated one sheet from the others. "The next item on our agenda is the proposal Julien Lovell has placed before us. Proposed: that Lee Greenwood the Third be removed as chief executive officer of Greenwood Limited, and that Julien Lovett be appointed as the acting and actual chief executive officer of Greenwood Limited. Such changes to be effective immediately should this proposal be approved by fifty-one or more percent of this board."

Legolas was determined not to look at any board member as the humiliating proposal was read, but Ivy's gasp made him lift his gaze to see the look of dawning horror and comprehension in her eyes as she realized what, exactly, had been laid before the board.

_This is we have refused to reveal to you, so as not to taint your vote,_ thought Legolas. _And now you know that Julien seeks to remove me, to toss me out as one would an old boot that has outlasted its usefulness. He seeks to take over Greenwood and all of its assets, to claim as his own everything I have built. To govern and guide and most likely ruin it._

_Apparently this is not simply Julien's opinion, but others see merit in it as well. Haldir warned me some days ago that no less than Elrond himself thinks it likely Julien has enough votes to do just that._

_How can this be happening? _was the urgent question in Ivy's eyes. Comprehension was fast being replaced by compassion, but Legolas dared not trust it or let the girl give him the slightest reason to hope.

_I have known you but a few short hours, and you seem very young and no threat,_ thought Legolas. _But in the past I relied upon allies known to me for years who proved enemies thinking only of themselves when came the final moment. It appears it is happening yet again, with those I have known far longer._

Images of the thrice-damned battle of Culloden came instantly to mind where, in less than half a day, Legolas had seen the Scottish clans fall and die in the bloody mud on Drumossie Moor. _'Red Campbell the Fox did the work of the English; McDonald in anger did no work at all.' _The Elf shoved away the old song and the images it stirred, needing desperately to concentrate on the battle he was facing here and now, rather than be sucked into a waking dream of a dead crusade.

_This may prove as devastating a route as Culloden, _thought Legolas_. At least I could fight at Culloden, could do something other than sit here and be nattered at and humiliated. It was easier when I could conquer any adversary through direct, if bloody, confrontation_. _Since Aragorn's death, I have schemed and fought to preserve this small part of his kingdom. To make it a sanctuary for his heirs, the people descended of Ithilien, and every Elf who has not gone Oversea. Yet, for all my efforts, I've no doubt that before this day is done, Ivy will find me an incompetent excuse for a protector. She will probably agree that I am an incompetent leader for this corporation as well._

Elrond let the paper float back to the table, and Ivy's attention was caught by the motion. Unable to continue looking at her, Legolas once more lowered his gaze to study his blank notepad.

"Our vote will follow Julien's presentation and Lee's rebuttal," said Elrond. "Julien, you have the floor."

Sliding down in her chair, Ivy kicked Legolas under the table. Startled by her boldness, he looked up as she thumped on his foot as would a rabbit to raise the alarm out in the wild. _Do something!_ her eyes begged, ignoring both Elrond and Glorfindel who were far from oblivious to what she was doing.

_Would that I could. _He captured her foot between both of his to stop its frantic movement, only to shiver slightly in apprehension as Julien began speaking.

"Thank you, Elden." Julien was all but purring as he prepared to address them. "I am most gratified to have this opportunity at long last to speak to all of you." His hair was finally free of vegetation and his smirk was back; Julien had regained his control. "As indicated on the handouts that went round earlier, you'll see that Greenwood can look forward to many improvements after I take the helm."

Legolas didn't bother touching the handout that had come his way.

"The first thing I'll do is cut the deadwood from all our companies," Julien said cheerfully.

"What, exactly, does that mean?" asked Glorfindel.

"Isn't it obvious? We need to cut redundancy, downsize our personnel--"

"Cut jobs and hurt the people working for us, you mean?" Glorfindel interjected.

Julien sighed. "As always, you approach business through the emotional side of things. Practicality must be considered in these times of new growth. We must minimize what is not working to our advantage and focus our strengths and resources on new and stronger opportunities. And yes, as I'm sure you're aware, a certain number of lay-offs is inevitable in any downsizing. We cannot become attached to every employee, and must concentrate on the bottom line. We might offer early retirements to a chosen few, but our focus needs to be on taking advantage of new investment opportunities."

"What opportunities?" Glorfindel again.

"Investment in China is hot now, yet we've entirely overlooked it," said Julien. "Our market shares in clothing and textile production, not to mention office supplies and toys, are suffering because certain members of this board have utterly refused to sign any contracts with our friends in the East. We can quickly enlarge our profits by outsourcing manufacturing and reducing its costs. When I lead Greenwood, I will do this."

"You wish to become partners with the government that invaded Tibet in 1959?" Elrond demanded. "The government that has systematically and relentlessly polluted Tibet and committed genocide for years against the indigenous people of that country, even as they deny doing so?"

Julien shrugged. "It's their war and not ours, isn't it? Elden, I'm sure you know enough history to realize to the victor go the spoils, as they've always gone in Mortal conflicts since the dawning of that puny race. Why should we allow Man's little wars to stand in the way of our strong profits? It doesn't make financial sense."

He waved a hand in open dismissal. "Oh, I know that you and Gordon have long refused to invest in China because of the Tibetan invasion. But that was such a long time ago, and everything's settled. I know a little sympathetic fuss is raised every now and again, but Tibet is part of China now, so there's no reason not to invest with them.

"Now, if I may continue?" Julien rushed on. "I would like to point out that during the time Lee has been gone we've done nothing but tread water while the rest of the business world has moved ahead. Certainly it is time to move ahead with stronger leadership. Strong leadership requires a bit of ruthlessness, certainly not the sentimentality that seems the trademark of Lee's reign. It's disgraceful how we've tottered along for years with the same selection of quaint little companies we've had for hundreds of years."

"Excuse me." Ivy raised her hand tentatively. "Do you mind if I ask a question?"

Julien's smile was unctuous. "Of course not, love."

"Love?" Ivy's dubious expression said, _I'm not your love,_ but she ploughed on before the audacious Elf dared offer something even more condescending. "Halden gave me some of Greenwood's annual reports to look at, and...um, you know those money spreadsheet things you guys did for all your subsidiaries over the last sixty years?"

"Yes, we know," said Wendy. "They're called balance sheets, and Elden releases them twice a year."

"Balance sheets." Ivy smiled. "Thank you, Wendy, that's good to know."

_Probably the only bit of the business Wendy does understand,_ thought Legolas_._

"So, Morno..."

_Did Ivy just call Julien by his Elven name?_ That got Legolas' attention. _Is she aware how he hates that?_ He thought she must, given the bright smile Ivy gave Julien when he scowled impotently at her.

"It's _Julien,_ my dear. I know it is confusing to you, but we must mind our names in these meetings."

"Right. Sorry, Morno. But could you point out to us exactly where Greenwood's been bleeding cash and losing market shares with the companies we've had over the past sixty years?" asked Ivy. "Because I thought every company's performance looked really good on those balance sheets. The assets kept going up while the expenses went down."

"Oh, yes, they did," Julien agreed. "As I said, under Lee's inept leadership, Greenwood's subsidiaries have tottered along as they have for hundreds of years. Their financial performance has been _acceptable_, but far from _exceptional_. This means our company quite simply is not living up to its gross profits potential. This means we are losing money that we should and could so easily be raking in, and I think we're all here for the dividends, aren't we?"

Julien nodded his satisfaction as murmurs arose from the table, but he kept his attention carefully focused on the newest member of the board.

"You received your first check this week, didn't you, Ivy? Wasn't that pleasant? Now, it could be more than that - perhaps double that if we move forward into this century. Wouldn't you like it to be much fatter by, say, next year?"

"You think you could make a difference that fast?" she challenged.

"I know I could. Opportunities are like Easter eggs. They are just laying about the corporate garden of Men; we have only to pick them up. You can't know how many have been trampled in the grass over the last fifty years as we trudge along in our little business rut." Julien looked so sad, Legolas thought someone might have kicked his favorite puppy. "With me at Greenwood's helm, the profitable partnerships we'd forge and the incompetent leadership we'd replace would more than make up for our losses."

_Losses in your own mind,_ thought Legolas. _Greenwood takes care of its own, that's what it has always done...and will not do in the future, if Julien has his way._

"Lee began losing us money from the very moment he deserted us," proclaimed Julien.

"Deserted you?" Ivy echoed.

"Oh, yes." Julien looked at each member in their turn. "Or have you forgotten that after Lee Greenwood the Second walked away from Isabel Hamilton in Paris and left no one with any idea where he'd gone, we had no choice but to manufacture the announcement that he had drowned in an unfortunate boating accident in Loch Shin? Halden, have you forgotten how you were shoved into a public limelight you were ill-equipped to handle? Elden and Gordon - the gods bless you - you must recall how hard you had to work to pick up Greenwood's shattered pieces?"

Ivy looked thoroughly confused. "Elden and Gordon did what?"

"Oh, darling, you really have been left in the dark, haven't you? Elden, would you care to tell Ivy how we've been doing business during Lee's long absence?" Reclaiming his chair, Julien primly folded his hands atop the table. "You have the floor, of course."

Elrond didn't bother standing up. "Ivy, there are such things in the world as corporate takeover specialists. Lee was one - a very good one - before he left for Alaska. He is still a good one."

"One might assume, but we have no way of knowing that as he has done nothing for over fifty years. Elden, on the other hand," said Julien, "is a corporate lawyer well-versed in international law, aren't you? He and Gordon kept our leaky little boat afloat after Lee left us, but it was not smooth sailing. Not smooth at all."

Legolas saw the stricken look Ivy cast him and Elrond, begging one of them to say it wasn't so. Turning his gaze back to the intricate grain of the wooden table before him, he knew all too well there were no words to reassure the newest Queen's Daughter.

"At Halden's request, Gordon and I did take over in Lee's absence," Elrond admitted with great reluctance.

"Halden's rather _panicked_ request, I might say. Someone obviously had to take over," inserted Julien. "The company wasn't going to run itself, and Halden hadn't the necessary skills."

"I am sitting right here, you know?" Haldir bristled. "I don't recall being that incompetent."

"Of course you weren't," Julien soothed. "There is a difference between being incompetent and merely being forced by the negligence of others into a position for which you were ill-prepared and inexperienced - a position you should never have had to shoulder. I mean no offense, my friend. My only intent is to bring Ivy up to speed on the pertinent details of our shared travails over the past fifty-three years, and that includes the abuse you were handed."

"Right."

Ivy ignored Julien and asked Elrond, "What happened after you took over?"

"I did the research and investigation necessary to identify firms whose performance we could improve," said Elrond. "Whenever we found a strong candidate, Gordon framed business plans and takeover proposals while I filed the necessary paperwork. We then communicated our preparations to Halden, who carried out the plans - quite adequately, I might add."

"Exactly!" Julien crowed. "Are you getting this, Ivy? Do you understand that Halden Greenwood is nothing but a puppet CEO whose strings have been pulled right along by Elden and Gordon?"

"I most certainly am not!" Haldir protested. He may not even have bothered speaking for all the acknowledgement Julien gave him.

"It took three people to act in Lee's absence - illegally, let me point out, since those three were never authorized by this board to do any of this. Lee's absence was never authorized, either. Oh, it has been tolerated with long-suffering patience for five decades - out of some sort of misguided loyalty to the old leadership I can only assume - but authorized? Never! Disgraceful, isn't it?"

"If you say so," Ivy said slowly, and Legolas knew in that instant she had begun losing her confidence in him. "But I'm still not getting part of this."

She looked at the other board members who seemed determined to sit in stony silence and merely listen. "If Lee did the work of three people so well for so many years, doesn't that make all of you eager to welcome him back and let him keep doing what he did before?"

"Are you mad?" Julien hissed, twisting his body as he leaned against the table - probably to accommodate the pain in whichever hip he had landed on. "Can you not see that Lee _deserted_ us? That shows how much he cares for Greenwood, that he would toss it all on the rubbish heap and run off because he got his feelings all in a swivet.

"Lee abandoned us, not caring if we should survive or not. He showed us no concern, no loyalty whatsoever. How are we to trust him again? Yes, he's still officially on this board, and we have been paying him for _absolutely nothing _during the years he's been gone, but why? The rest of us have served faithfully right along and have fulfilled our many obligations. What has Lee done since 1951 to aid us? It is my personal opinion that he needs to step down and at the very least return all of the dividend payments deposited into his account since the date of his desertion!"

Elladan growled from beside Ivy. "Have you forgotten that without Lee there wouldn't even be a Greenwood Limited for you to try taking over? He founded the company."

"That was then, this is now," Julien said, offhanded and smug. "Again, misguided loyalty to the past. He deserted us without so much as a by-your-lady warning. Had it been anyone else, we would have removed him that instant, and there would be nothing to discuss fifty-three years on. Do you think any of the rest of us would have been forgiven for that sort of transgression?" he demanded, his gaze sweeping around the table. "I very much doubt it."

"In the past--"Glorfindel began.

"Stop right there and listen to yourself, Gordon," Julien interrupted, "because 'in the past,' is at heart of my argument. The next point I wish to make is that our Lee has been out of the game for so long, it's moved beyond his capabilities to play. We can't afford to waste the time it would take to let him play catch up."

"If it is one thing our organization has always had," Legolas said softly, "it is time."

"And that statement illustrates what I am saying. The world moves at a much quicker pace now. Our having time at our command may have been true _in the past_, but you've no idea how far the world of Men has progressed during your little northern sabbatical."

The Elf's expression moved into pity, and Legolas braced for the worst.

"We aren't angry with you, Lee...not really...for we know how exhausted you must be after all this time. We wouldn't dream of actually removing you from the board. No, we're only asking that you pass the torch and step down after all these years. A new century has dawned with new technological wonders and many brave ideas. It's understandable how you could have fallen behind while spending so much time out in the wilderness, especially after having been closeted for decades in your little countryside retreat here. Just a tad out of touch with the world, I'm afraid."

Legolas heard the sub-text all too clearly: _We understand you're old and tired. You need to step down and go back to your much-needed rest. Of course you'll still be on the board. You just sit back and let me rake in the dividends for you._

_I need to sit back and watch Julien destroy everything I worked so long to build and have fought so long to keep?_ Legolas wanted nothing more than to lunge down the table and box the wanker's ears until he cried and begged for mercy. _I should watch him turn my home into a bed and breakfast establishment while he turns the people of Lairg into service employees for the tourists? Or worse, Julien organizes another clearance and boots them out of their homes? Only this time the sheep would be Chinese and American tourists with Euros in their pockets. I'd rather have the sheep._

_Aragorn entrusted to me a desolate, war-blasted Ithilien, and I worked with both Men and Elves to re-seed the land. I have watched it and its people grow for centuries, guarded and preserved both as best I could through blood and sweat and pain._

_Must I now watch Julien cut it all down? Not only my people, but my trees as well? This ancient Caledonian forest at my back door, a tangle of fern and rowan, birch and oak that is home to so many - deer and rabbit, badger and hawk? This is my home, and they are my friends standing strong and silent and trusting. I planted the ancestors to these trees with my own hands after Sauron's defeat. I have fought to preserve them along with my people over the centuries._

_In my terrible, foolish absence, Julien has made his plans. Already, he has had someone survey my trees; I have seen the bright yellow plastic ribbons tied round them, slating each for slaughter if Julien wins the day._

"To lead us this new century," said Julien, "we need more than an Elven leader whose greatest claim to fame is having been a member of the Fellowship. I'm certain he was a wonderful warrior in bygone times, but Lee's weapons are as outdated as his business leadership. Battles today require a new sort of warrior. A modern, corporate warrior like myself."

With every word, Julien only added to Legolas' fury and despair. _It would take so little to silence him, were the rules today the same as they were in 'bygone times.' Without shedding the slightest drop of blood - Julien's or anyone else's - I could be well rid of him._

"What makes this century so different?" With a sinking heart, Legolas realized Ivy's tone had become one of curiosity, as though she was considering the common sense and logic of Julien's arguments. "Greenwood is already one of the richest corporations in the world. Why do you want so much more money?"

Julien gave a lazy smile. "I thought you'd never ask. We need it to defend ourselves."

"From what?"

"Mortal technology, for one thing. It's all in those little papers I've passed around, if you'd care to examine them?"

"Why don't you summarize what's in them?" Elladan suggested.

"Very well. There are digital photo records stored in government computers that will never go away, DNA databases expanding daily to record the cellular fingerprints of common men as well as criminals. To this, add laser-scan fingerprinting, retinal scans and voice recognition that can be embedded into security systems. Mortals microchip their pets now and place the information into a nationwide databank so that a lost pet may be located wherever the chip can be read, whether it be at an animal shelter or in a veterinarian's office. Some parents want their children microchipped, so satellites may locate the child if it is abducted. There has also been serious discussion regarding citizen microchipping, with medical and personal records that can be scanned and accessed at any time by law enforcement or medical personnel.

"Global positioning units on vehicles can be tracked by satellites, and information such as location and speed can be sent to any military and other authority that may require it. Powerful cameras in satellites can zero in to watch and record any detail on you, Ivy, as you shop for a new dress. Or on you, Dan, as you remove your latest ceramic efforts from your back-yard kiln in Wales. Because I've paid a small monthly fee to a specific global mapping service, I could log onto Halden's computer and show you a satellite picture of this castle's forecourt. That image would be scarcely twenty minutes old, and you would be able to count every car parked outside. If I pay a higher fee, I can access current-time, moving images. Gordon, how would you like someone to track you via satellite throughout your workday on Warra?" Julien spread his hands helplessly. "Where can any of us hide from technology such as this?"

No one answered him. From the shared looks around the table, Legolas knew his own apprehensions over Julien's revelations were echoed by the others.

"As a further example, let us examine one obvious application of the simple microchip."

Reaching into his pocket, Julien brought our a small plastic bag. Dangling it between his thumb and forefinger for a moment before pushing it down the table, he let everyone see that it contained a tiny object no bigger than the tip of someone's little finger. It looked so harmless, Legolas knew in other circumstances he would have overlooked the thing as entirely inconsequential.

"A little wired wafer such as that one can be injected beneath the epidermis of your arm to nestle there painlessly, indefinitely. The micro-circuitry it contains can then be used to track you - no matter who you are and no matter how much power or control over your life you may think you have - at any time, anywhere on the planet.

"If you find that thought chilling in regard to the privacy we have all enjoyed over our long lives," Julien continued, relentless, "I ask you to remember one more thing. Man's long history of greed and his lust for power has shown he cannot resist applying any invention for long - no matter how harmful or destructive that invention may be. Man revels in the knowledge that he _can;_ whether he _should_ is not up for discussion in their halls of power for very long. It is therefore only a matter of time before every living being on the planet is chipped and cataloged as a matter of course for future medical treatment or study, control or location. Those living beings, I regret to point out, include us."

Legolas listened with growing worry as Julien painstakingly listed only a few of the things Legolas had not been aware of while he had sat sulking over Isabel Hamilton for five decades. _How could I miss the coming of these things, and why did my father or Elrond not warn me? Why did they not bring me back before now?_

_It all sounds like something Sauron might have invented to destroy all freedom, and not only the Eldar's freedom. To manipulate and control beings bit by bit, until in the end all are enslaved by power and knowledge that is held by only a few. Did we manage to destroy the One Ring and the power of the Dark Lord, only to have it take root and grow in other, Mortal hosts? This is indeed an evil path to follow, but how can we turn it aside now?_

"We have enjoyed centuries of moving among Men and reinventing our identities and lives at will," Julien continued. "But microchips and other advancements promise to make it extremely difficult, if not impossible, for any of us to continue doing this. We might evade subcutaneous invasion, but for how long? Even if we do, there are other ways to follow us, from fingerprints to retinal and voice scans.

"Once any pertinent information is entered into Mortal databases, that is information Mortals could conceivably use to discover us or track us in the future. It is already happening in small ways, simply because we buy and use their goods. For example, Gordon, do you not use voice recognition technology to guard your fences at Warra? It is inevitable that someone, at some time, will notice something matches. Someone may realize, for example, that the identity Gordon runs with in two hundred years has the same voice print or the same thumb print as the identity he is using today. If we continue blithely on and depend on the old methods of concealing what we are, sooner or later we will be discovered. If we do nothing, we are simply begging for them to find us."

_Why was I not told of this?_ Legolas thought, despairing. _Perhaps something could have been done in the beginning, but these ways of spying and gathering information have already been put into motion. What does Julien want to--_

"What, exactly, are you proposing to prevent our eventual discovery?" Elrond's question echoed Legolas' train of thought.

"It's obvious, isn't it? If we do not wish to be ferreted out, we must gain total control of the technology and be purveyors of it. We must direct the information garnered from it, so it cannot threaten what remains of our race."

"That technology is not only in corporate hands," Elrond pointed out. "It was initially developed for and used by the military in a number of nations. Are you suggesting we gain military power as well?"

"I am suggesting we do whatever it takes to gain the absolute power and wealth needed for us to _survive_," Julien insisted. "You, Lord Elrond, were one of the few among us who had the sufficient power and knowledge of the world of Men to keep Greenwood going. But while your time-honored techniques have allowed us to survive in the short-term...forgive me, but something more - much more - is needed for the long-term."

"And what might that be?" the Elf-lord pursued.

"We require more money, more power, and definitely more control of the key industries rolling out these dangerous technologies," insisted Julien. "We are already behind...so far behind. Clearly the information I have presented this morning has shocked and dismayed all of you. Clearly, we are all vulnerable to these possible dangers, and all because those currently leading Greenwood failed to notice what was happening. Greenwood needs someone with my vision to lead it forward, and the change must happen now. To waste any more time on the old ways is to deepen the threat to ourselves."

Looking around the table, Julien pressed on. "The twenty-first century offers a complex and volatile environment, one neither Legolas nor anyone else but me has the experience or knowledge to negotiate. Without that, it will be difficult to achieve our goals for increased security as well as increased profits.

"This is a time of great change, and Greenwood needs to change with it - no, we _must_ change with it or die. Literally, I fear, given Mortal intolerance of anything different from themselves. While Lee has been in Alaska, I have been preparing. Studying and positioning myself in the world of Men to be of exquisite service to our organization. I offer my talents, my insights, and my vision to lead us into the future." Julien looked well-satisfied with the arguments he'd offered. "Are there any questions?"

Legolas' heart sank as no one around the table responded. Elrond, Ivy and even Glorfindel had been silent for many long minutes, listening intently to the message Julien was delivering.

Julien's smirk was oily and self-satisfied. "If there are no questions, then I now relinquish the floor to Lee, who will defend his position as best he can."

"I have a question." Ivy spoke quietly, her voice wavering.

Desolation washed through Legolas as he realized the girl's tone had softened toward Julien. Tightening his grip on the armrests of his chair, Legolas lowered his head and closed his eyes.

_I've lost them,_ Legolas thought. _Every one of them, even Ivy. And I've lost Greenwood. I came into this meeting fearing I might lose everything. Now, after listening to Julien, perhaps the greatest irony of all is that I believe I may deserve to lose it. There is truth to what he says, and the fault lies with my self-indulgent inattention._

"What is it, Ivy?"

"I'm curious to know why you think you're a better man for the job you've outlined than, say, Elden or Gordon or even Dan? I mean, you're much younger than any of them. Don't you think their experience counts for--"

"I've already explained all that!" he snapped, waving away her question. "While Lee has been off wasting time and the others have been desperately trying to preserve Greenwood's crumbling foundation, I've been preparing myself to--"

"You've used generalities. What about specifics?"

"Of all the--" Julien sputtered. "Were you not listening? We've _covered _all of that. Or are the concepts too difficult for you? I know you're far too young to have an understanding of anything but your paints."

Two beats. Three.

_That's it,_ thought Legolas. _In less than an hour, Julien has managed to silence all of us. And I have no good rebuttal prepared against his very sane arguments as to how Greenwood should be run in the future._

"Explain it again," said Ivy. "Use very little words. Make me understand."

Legolas' head came up as iron determination sounded behind every soft, clipped word. Ivy's jaw was locked, she spoke through gritted teeth. Her narrow gaze was assessing and this side of cold. Her entire demeanor was suddenly one the Elf hadn't seen or heard for millennia--an attitude so achingly familiar to Legolas, it made him weep when he met it in waking dreams.

_She looks as I saw Aragorn look when he faced down the learned men of Gondor's own council._

"Tell me your qualifications," Ivy continued, "the sort you'd put on a resume. Tell me why you'd be a good choice to take over from Legolas as CEO. What classes have you taken, what degrees have you earned? What businesses have you run, and what was their performance? What experience have you gotten out there in the real world of Men?"

Julien stared open-mouthed as if he could not believe the little chit was daring to question him. Ivy waited a moment or two before continuing.

"After you've outlined your qualifications, make me understand how your reacting with greed and fear to grab more power and wealth is going to make it safe for any Elf to remain in this world. But before you do that, I want you to tell me why you think it's so damned necessary for any Elf to remain in this world - long-term, of course, since you're obviously trying to make long-term plans for all of us."

"It's all in the handout!" Julien repeated. "If you'd just _look at it,_ you'd see that I've spent my whole life among Men. I've worked among them and befriended them in a variety of venture capitol projects totaling billions, and I've a Master of Letters from Judas College in Oxford."

"How the bloody hell does a Master of Letters prepare you to run a multi-billion dollar company?" asked Elladan. "If you had a Master of Business Administration, you might start in some little mailroom somewhere and try working your way up, but Letters? Come on, Julien!"

"I know how Men conduct business!" Julien shouted. "I've lived as one of them for decades, unlike you lot! You've been hiding out in quaint little villages like the one down the hill, or out in the middle of nothing in Australia on a cattle station whose very name means 'go away!' I've been living among Mortals, interacting with them as one of them since my birth. I've been a member of White's for years, and my membership is pending to the Athenaeum Club!"

Glorfindel burst out laughing. "Are you seriously claiming that membership in a London gentleman's club helps qualify you to look after Greenwood?"

"It proves that I understand Men. It proves I can move as one of them!"

"We all do that, Julien," said Elrond with far more patience than Legolas suspected the Elf-lord felt.

"Not as I do," Julien insisted. "Not so closely as I have since the beginning of the Industrial Revolution, I think you'll admit."

"Oh, I'll definitely admit that," muttered Glorfindel. "You were the first among us to embrace the combustion engine, and it's all been downhill since then."

"There. You see? I've always been able to see where this world is headed. You can't. You'd still have us using horses for transportation. Oh, I'm sorry, Gordon. You still do, don't you?" Julien glowered at each board member in their turn and ended with Ivy. "I think we've made it all quite plain, even for you. Do you have any more questions you want answered, Ivy?"

She and Legolas had sat silent throughout the latest outburst. Now, her expression inscrutable, Ivy shook her head. "No, I'm good. Thanks."

"Then I ask all of you to seriously consider my bid to become CEO of Greenwood Limited. I now surrender the floor to Mr. Greenwood." Falling into his chair, Julien nursed his sore arm and cast a sullen look Legolas' way.

With reluctance, and feeling it was rather useless at this point to say anything because he knew he was about to lose everything, Legolas got to his feet. Ivy watched him, still wearing her inscrutable expression, and the rest of the board wasn't giving anything away either.

"As I look around the table," Legolas began, "it occurs to me that some of you have known me nearly all my life. The rest of you, I've known all your lives. I owe every one of you an apology for deserting my position and causing such chaos. I can but ask your forgiveness. Beyond that, I would like to point out a few things.

"When I went to Alaska, Greenwood's coffers were £380 billion strong. Had we earned not one additional pound during the fifty-three years I was gone, everyone Greenwood supports could have lived quite nicely on only the interest generated by that sum. If I had not known you were all secure, I never would have left. Had Greenwood's security faltered, I would have been informed and would have returned.

"I thank Halden, Elden and Gordon for taking up where I so abruptly left off. They made certain in my absence that Greenwood continued to flourish. Our traditional subsidiaries have strong foundations and performed like well-maintained mechanisms to continue prospering. The continuing efforts of both Men and Elves made this possible.

"We added new companies to our family, and the dividend checks have continued coming. Now, it is now time for Greenwood's day-to-day operations to be handed back to me."

Legolas ignored the disgusted sound of disagreement from Julien's end of the table.

"What will you have in me as Greenwood's CEO?" asked Legolas. "The same as you have had in the past. The needs Greenwood answers for all of us are few and quite simple. Yes, one of our goals has been to earn vast amounts of money, but not because any of us are greedy or crave power over any other being in this world.

"The first thing money provides us is the freedom to move within the world of Men, and the freedom to own the land we live on and prevent Men from taking that land from us. Money has given us the freedom to live where and how we would, including our quaint villages and cattle stations that afford us privacy as well as membership in Mortal gentleman's clubs.

"The second thing money provides is choices. The more money Greenwood has in its coffers, the more choices are open to all of us. What dreams did your parents have? What dreams do you have? Quite simply, for hundreds of years Greenwood's profits have made our dreams come true and put paid to our fears. Greenwood's purpose has been to give us freedom and offer us choices while we live in this world. We Elves may move through the world of Men, but we have never been part of it. We should never become part of it, for we are Elves, not Mortals.

"I created Greenwood long years ago out of necessity, but it has grown to belong to all of us. It works best not with only one of us at its helm, but with all of us working in concert to preserve our freedom and our choices.

"Greenwood's CEO does not perform the same functions as the CEO of a Mortal company. More than anything, our CEO is a public figurehead - a breathing illusion required by Men to perform in public. He or she is a single swan gliding on the surface of the water, while many Elven feet paddle beneath the surface to aid him or her. We share our strengths and responsibilities in managing Greenwood just as we share the rewards."

"In all the years I have publicly led Greenwood, I have never led it alone. Halden, Elden and Gordon have always been a very large part of it. Your forebears, your parents and yourselves have helped every step of the way as well. Greenwood belongs to far more than this board and the Elven communities it serves. It belongs to the people living in the village of Lairg, whose families have been with me since the days of Gondor. It belongs to the green wood from which the company borrowed its name, so that we could be forever reminded of the home that sustains us, protects and shelters us from outside harm. It belongs also to the creatures living in the ancient forests surrounding this house, for Greenwood is not just my creation: Greenwood _is_ creation. That is what it stands for. That is what it is used for - to protect and to nurture, be it Elf or Elf-friend, creature or tree.

"Whatever power we have earned across the ages by collecting the wealth of Men - or green frog-skins as my Inuit neighbors call the world's money - I believe that we must always remember we are not Men. We are Elves. We do not embrace the conflict and competition for power and riches that drive some Mortals. We do not wield power against others in greed or fear. If the day comes when we are tempted to do so, then we are in danger of diminishing until we can no longer be counted among the Eldar. When that happens - if it happens - I believe we need to turn away from the darkness in our hearts, hand off Greenwood to the Elf-friends it serves, and follow the west road home.

"If we are now filled with such terror at the thought of Men discovering we live among them that we believe we must seize power from them - we must hurt them before they hurt us - then it may already be time for us to follow the west road home.

"That is all I have to say. Have you any questions to ask me?"

The silence that followed was deafening. Legolas nodded, still not meeting the gazes of those around him.

"I yield the floor," Legolas concluded quietly. "If there are no questions, perhaps we might proceed with the vote and quickly settle this matter?" He settled back into his chair.

_This was a good tree, _he thought, rubbing the grain at the edge of the table with his fingertips._ I remember when it fell. I remember crafting this table from it. I remember transplanting a seedling into its place. What will happen to my trees now?_


	23. Chapter 23

CHAPTER 23

"Are there any further questions before we vote?" asked Elrond.

"I have a question," Ivy spoke softly.

Julien's audible sigh gave voice to his frustration. _It must be torture to have success so very close to being in your grasp, only to have it delayed by such trivialities. _Legolas ordinarily would have enjoyed Julien's discomfiture, but today he agreed. _Please, make it quick. Let this end._

"What now, Ivy?" muttered Julien.

"It's only a teenie, tiny question," she offered, apologetic. She fanned the pages of Julien's handout, and Legolas cringed inwardly. "I know you're all anxious to cast your votes, and I know as a newbie I'm trying everyone's patience, but I'd really like to look at this report thing...or whatever it is...before making a decision. If that's okay?"

_She is giving this serious consideration? She finds this plausible?_ Legolas wished she would throw another one of her bright smiles his way so that he could at least pretend she was still on his side. But no, she only looked to Elrond for guidance.

"A most excellent suggestion," said the Elf-lord. "Why don't we all take fifteen minutes to look at Julien's materials?"

Elladan and Haldir ignored Elrond's counsel to push back from the table and descend on the snack trolley. Wendy sank back with a long-suffering sigh and fanned herself with Julien's report. Sindohte sniffed in disapproval, and Alasse wrinkled her nose as Wendy's perfume began to waft in a widening cloud to surround those at her end of the table.

Sindohte attempted to speak to Alasse quietly, but Wendy's voice rose above their murmured conversation. "Have you seen the Times? There's a fantastic sale at Harrod's on Prada and Gucci that I simply must get to this week."

Elrond and Glorfindel remained seated, determined as ever to stay the course. Ignoring everyone else, Ivy intently began scanning the papers before her.

Julien circulated with drink in hand, his agitation once again under wraps. His smile was irritating and his manner unctuous and ready to help with any questions. Ever so slowly, he oiled his way over to stand behind Ivy. Legolas and Elrond both tensed when Julien dared lean over her.

"If I may?" he purred.

She jumped sideways to evade him, and Julien leaned even closer. Their noses were so close, Legolas was certain they were breathing each other's air. Julien's smile widened to something resembling a crocodile's.

"Please allow me to direct your attention to page fifteen."

He wasn't touching her, nor was he being rude. He was invading her personal space, but until the girl made an issue of it, her guardians could do nothing to stop it and well Julien knew it.

"Please, allow me." Sliding the report from between Ivy's unresisting fingers, he turned to the page in question. "You were asking after my curriculum vitae, were you not? Well, here it is. I'm certain you'll find it most satisfactory."

"Um, I was actually reading about your business projections." She tried to flip back to the page she had been reading, but Julien once more twitched it out of reach.

"Oh, this is far easier to understand. Here, on this page there's a chart of projected profits and benefits you may find particularly interesting. And it's in color, too. Makes things very clear, don't you think?"

Leaning on the table, Julien pointed out the chart. "Here is how profitable we were this year. And here are our expanded profits next year after my management principles are applied. Those are wonderful figures, aren't they? How would you like all that lovely extra cash rattling around in your trust fund? I know it's rather empty at the moment, seeing as you've only just started with us. I can fix that," he assured with another smile.

Ivy looked over the chart in question. "Wow. It looks impressive."

"It is impressive. The actual results will be even more incredible."

"Thanks for showing this to me." She sounded sincere, and Legolas' heart sank even further.

Claiming Elladan's abandoned chair, Julien scooted closer. Sparing a glance at Elrond, Legolas saw that while the Elf-lord still closely watched Julien's interaction with Ivy, he had subsided back in his chair. Apparently Elrond had also recognized Ivy's willingness to listen to the weasel.

_That's it, then. It is over. Ivy is lost and so is all of Greenwood. Will Julien allow me to remove my things from this place, or will he claim it all? And if he affably allows their removal, would it be better to give everything up and walk away with nothing but what little dignity I might retain after this defeat?_

"I could show you other things."

The rampant innuendo in Julien's tone made Legolas snap his attention back to the pair. Far from taking offense, Ivy seemed captivated by the younger Elf.

_Is this Queen's Daughter so young and untried,_ Legolas wondered, _that she is conquered through empty flirtation? No good can come of this._

Ivy regarded Julien for a long, unreadable moment, and Legolas held his breath. Order him away, he petitioned silently.

Rather than rebuff Julien, Ivy favored him with one of her bright smiles and pushed the report toward him. "If you don't mind taking the time, I'd like it if you showed me."

So strong was the wave of nausea and despair that hit Legolas, he had to close his eyes and force down the bile filling his throat. While no longer subjected to the sight of Julien seducing the new Queen's Daughter to his twisted ways, Legolas could still hear him pontificating and Ivy's quiet voice asking for clarification.

The ordered break took an eternity longer than fifteen minutes, or so it seemed to Legolas. Keeping his eyes closed the entire time, he was infinitely grateful when Elrond asked everyone to return to the table.

"Steady on, and try not to lose hope," Glorfindel murmured in Gondolic as everyone resumed their places. Startled, Legolas opened his eyes and locked gazes with his father. Leaning against Legolas, Glorfindel tried to lend his son strength and comfort through the touching. "Nothing's as bad as all that. If the vote goes south, we'll go back to Alaska together and make an adventure of it."

"There will be bears," he muttered and tried not to look at anyone directly, most especially the young Queen's Daughter directly across from him.

Elrond settled at the end of the table and took a moment to look at each board member directly. "Now is the time to vote on Julien's proposal that Lee be removed and Julien be appointed as chief executive officer of Greenwood Limited. Since this vote involves major changes to our company's future and requires but a majority of one to pass, I think it only proper that, rather than a showing of hands, we should verbally indicate our votes.

"Please vote yea if you are in favor of removing Lee and appointing Julien in his place. Please vote nay if you are in favor of Lee retaining his position. Halden, if you would be so kind as to track the votes as we go? Are there any last questions before we begin?"

A few shook their heads. Much to Legolas' relief, everyone remained silent. His heart, however, was pounding loudly enough in his ears to rival the voices. He had to struggle to hear Elrond's voice through the noise.

"Very well. Halden, my vote is nay. Lee?"

It took a few seconds for Legolas to realize he was being asked to respond.

"Nay." _For all the good it will do._

"Gordon?"

"Nay."

Thank you, my father, thought Legolas. At least all of the votes won't go against me.

"Kiki?"

"Yea." Her voice was soft, flat and devoid of emotion.

"Mona?"

"I vote yea." She also sounded almost disinterested.

"Wendy?"

"Yea." She sounded bored. No surprise there.

"Julien?"

"Of course my vote is yea."

_Ah yes, the wolf is waiting to dine. Or rather the hyena, waiting to steal the carcass away from its rightful owner._

"Kate?"

"Yea." Staccato, anxious and clearly uncomfortable.

"Marina?"

"Yea." Marina looked in Legolas' direction, but he refused to meet her eyes.

"Halden?"

"Nay." Haldir - Elbereth bless him - was looking down his patrician nose at Julien.

"Dan, you are voting proxy for David. His vote is?..."

"Nay."

"And your own?"

"Nay as well."

_Six votes for. Six against._ Legolas shuddered and felt Glorfindel tense beside him. _Ivy is the last to vote, which means an untried Queen's Daughter will decide all our fates._

All eyes fell to Ivy. Legolas willed her to look at him, but it seemed the girl had eyes and smiles only for Julien now. Delighted, he smiled back at her, entirely confident she was now as much on his side as her mother Marian had been. Ivy would not fail Julien, and he was practically salivating in anticipation.

"Ivy," said Elrond. "What is your vote?"

"It's nay." She looked up at the Elf-lord. "Wait, that's against Julien and for Lee, right?"

"That is correct. So your vote is nay?"

"That's right," she answered brightly.

"No!" Julien exploded from his chair. "You've got it wrong. It's yea for me to take over, not nay!" He whirled to face Elrond, his face draining of color. "She's made a mistake. She's young, it's her first vote, so let's let her vote again!"

"I don't need to vote again. I meant just what I said. That's no to you, _Morno,_ and yes to Lee."

Julien sputtered. "You can't vote against me!"

"Just did. What part of no do you not understand?"

"You can't!" he howled. Wendy made a grab for his arm, but he shook her away. "Not ten minutes ago, you liked what you read in that report! You agreed with me! You understood!"

Ivy smiled a smile as devoid of warmth as any of Julien's. "I didn't agree with you. I listened to you lecture me. Big difference. You never heard me say I was going to vote for you."

"Your mother would have!"

"Like I told you last night, Morno, I'm not my Mom and she's not here."

"But why, you stupid child!"

"Because your plan sucks, that's why. And you really need to work on your people skills."

"Daughter." Elrond's hand on Ivy's shoulder instantly silenced her. "Julien. You know as well as I that Queen's Daughter is not required to justify her vote any more than are the rest of us on this board. Now, sit down."

That, along with a hard look, was enough to make the younger Elf obey.

"Halden," Elrond continued, "where does the vote stand?"

Haldir consulted his notes. "Six voted for Julien's proposal and seven against."

"Thank you. Let the record show that Lee Greenwood remains our chief executive officer. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Let us break now for our mid-day meal and meet back here in ninety minutes."

Julien continued sputtering while Elrond turned away from the table. Following his lead, Ivy sprang to her feet with Elladan not far behind. Glorfindel and Legolas rose as one, and only Wendy paid her brother any attention as the four other female Elves who had voted for Julien fled the room. Leaping up, Julien cut through everyone else to make a beeline for Haldir.

"You miscounted," the younger Elf accused, breathing so fast that Legolas thought Julien might hyperventilate. "It was seven for me, not six."

"I'm relatively certain I can count to thirteen," said Haldir. "If you like, you may take a look at the record Elrond requested be kept."

Snatching away the offered sheet, Julien held it with fingers that shook so hard, the paper rattled.

"Don't even think of tearing that up," warned Haldir. "We've the entire session on video."

"Haldir, darling." Slinking up beside the Elf, Wendy captured his arm and leaned against him. "Julien and I simply must get back to London for the sales. Have you a computer I might use to check the weather?"

"Allow me to get my laptop. We've a wireless connection so you can sit in comfort down in the dining hall rather than hunch over some old desk. I'll meet you there, shall I?

"This cannot be right," Julien muttered at the paper.

Grabbing her brother by the arm, Wendy towed him toward the door. "Come on, Julien. Your silly proposal has had its day, and we simply must get off this hill as soon as possible."

"What?" He blinked at her. "We're not leaving yet. We can't."

"Of course we can. We shall get into the car and drive away. I assure you, it's as simple as that."

Haldir snatched back the voting record as Julien went by.

"We are absolutely not leaving, Wendy. I need--"

"What you need is to give up on your silly plans. What I need is to shop. You promised that we'd go right after the vote."

The library door closed on Julien's ever more frantic protests.

"Alone at last." Glorfindel sighed. "I thought they'd never leave."

"Almost makes me like Wendy." Dan grinned. "watching her drag him off like that."

"Yes, well. I must make sure the buffet is in order," Haldir murmured.

"I'm certain Erestor has it well in hand," said Elrond.

"I must also make sure our resident evil brother and sister do not steal the silver."

"They wouldn't try," said Elladan. "It'd be anticlimactic after trying to steal all of Greenwood."

"No doubt Julien will plot something else for our entertainment this afternoon," said Legolas. "He can't lose completely so there is certain to be some manner of retribution, no matter how petty.

"I hope he plots slowly, for I'd like a quiet luncheon." Going to the corner desk, Haldir retrieved a small, flat leather satchel that Legolas thought might contain the laptop computer the former marchwarden had promised Wendy.

_It would have to be small, wouldn't it, to fit on her lap?_ thought Legolas. _Or perhaps my understanding of 'laptop' is inferior._

Laying a hand on Legolas' shoulder on the way by, Haldir murmured, "So glad the vote went your way, and that the little beast did not get our company."

"As am I." Legolas clasped Haldir's arm in simple affection. "I am most grateful for your vote."

Haldir sniffed. "As if I'd ever vote for that little worm? All right, I'm off. There's a banquet to oversee, the Lovells to be watched and spoons to be counted. Your discussions and machinations will certainly carry on, but please do keep me informed after the nonce?"

"We always do," Glorfindel said cheerfully. "Best away and see to those prawns and canapes."

"Yes, yes, and preserve you some, I know the song. Would the last person out of my library please lock the door? We don't want anything befalling the meeting video or our very expensive recording equipment." Haldir swept out.

"I'm so sorry this happened," Ivy blurted. Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself and looked on the verge of tears.

Elladan perched on the edge of the table. "It's not your fault Julien walks among us. So why are you sorry?"

"Legolas has been looking after all of you for millennia," she explained. "It took my grandmother's insane behavior and evil treatment for him to need a vacation. If it weren't for Isabel, this entire situation would never have come up."

"All of which took place long before you were born."

"Indeed it did," Elrond confirmed. "Thankfully, Isabel and her behavior are in the past, as is Julien's takeover bid. I suggest we move forward and deal with the present."

"The present..." Legolas mused. Taking a deep breath, he braced himself for whatever else might come before the day's end. "Perhaps Julien is right and I am out of touch these days. Perhaps someone else would do a better job of running Greenwood this new century."

"Absolutely not," Glorfindel said firmly. "Speaking as your father and also as Gordon Weston, I say that you are the best choice to lead us. You always have been and well we all know it, straight back to Aragorn and his asking you to rebuild Ithilien after Sauron's fiends blasted it."

"Actually I asked to do it. I liked the place."

"No matter, you still built Laird, this hall, this company. You have always led here, and led well. Even Elrond agrees with me on that, don't you?"

"I do. All of us voted for you because we believe in you."

No hesitation there, much to Legolas' relief. "Thank you, Lord Elrond. I know too well no summons would have come from Haldir had you no faith in me, but your support is astonishing given my past inadequacies."

"I fear you judge yourself far more harshly than any of us ever would," Elrond ventured.

"Regardless," said Legolas, "it seems all of you have given me not only a vote of confidence this day, but a second chance to serve. You have my gratitude."

"You have our welcome, my son, and I've something else to point out after observing that vote," said Glorfindel. "With the exception of Ivy--and that exception was a marvelous thing, my dear--the line was drawn very clearly between we ancient and those youthful Elves. Everyone the near side of Elven infancy supported Julien, and I noticed that most of their parents are Oversea. Those who are not have washed their hands of any involvement with Greenwood, so the children are indeed accountable to none outside these walls."

"I noticed that line of demarcation as well." Elrond folded his arms. "Verce, Sindohte, Alasse and Tamurile all supported Julien, yet none looked happy doing so. Ivy, it may interest you to know that your mother claimed both Julien and Wendy as friends. They were constant companions whenever she was among us, and she consistently voted with the two of them."

"Obviously, Julien expected you to be like your mum and go over to the Dark Side," said Elladan. "That must be why he was so confident of winning today."

"The Dark Side?" Ivy wrinkled her nose. "Why would I go over to the Dark side? I want to hang out with you Jedi, not the weasel Sith."

"We are what?" asked Legolas, entirely bewildered.

"They're referencing S_tar Wars_," said Glorfindel. "A movie you haven't seen, but probably should. For all that the lightsaber...erm, sword action...is woefully lacking."

"Ah, the space movie. I am actually aware of it."

"You've seen it?"

"I've not actually _seen_ it. I heard talk. I did see a moment of it while in the general store at Meyers Chuck, but I was too taken aback by the shopkeep's dress to actually pay attention to the movie. I will add it to the list of things I must explore."

"Her dress? What was so amazing about her dress that it made you ignore Darth Vader?" Ivy asked.

"It didn't suit him or his curly black beard."

"HIM? Oh. I guess that would be...um..."

Elladan grinned at Ivy. "How much do you bet Legolas will want to learn the ways of the Force and become a Jedi like his father?"

"Been there. Already done that." Glorfindel looked at his son with evident pride even as irritation flared within Legolas.

"I've no idea what any of you are talking about."

"Perhaps we should leave the galaxy far, far away and return to the concerns at hand?" Elrond suggested. "As Legolas pointed out earlier, we were long ago warned of our diminishing. It appears some among us are certainly doing that. Have we all lingered too long?"

"Surely that's a debate for another day?" suggested Glorfindel. "As you said, now is the time to find out why those younglings supported Julien. Do they share his attitude that we are but ancient Elves who have outlived our usefulness? Time to give over to a more modern, efficient way of doing things and retire?"

"That's insane," said Ivy. "I mean, it's not as if any of you age like Mortals and are in your dotage, mentally or physically."

"No, we're merely entrenched in the old way of doing things, which Julien and perhaps the others believe is wrong," noted Elrond.

"Never trust anybody over three thousand," Dan added.

"I'm yet to be convinced anyone but Julien shares that view," said Glorfindel. "I want to interview our four rebellious girls during the break and find out why they voted for his high and mightiness."

"Especially since those younglings, as you call them, have been rock steady in their supporting Lee and the rest of us in the past," said Elladan. "They've had no use for Julien in the past, so why start now?"

"Clearly, something is going on behind the scenes that we know nothing about," said Elrond. "I do know that Verce has been trying to avoid me since we arrived. I managed to corner her this morning and introduce her to Ivy, but Verce still seems uncomfortable around me and that is most unusual. We may wish to talk to her first."

"Right, then. Let's get on with it," said an eager Glorfindel.

"I believe we should also make every effort to help Haldir watch Julien," Legolas suggested. "There is no telling what mischief he will plot next, and I do not want him left alone while he's among us."

"Agreed," said Elrond. "I will come with you now, Glorfindel. Between the three of us, we should be able to keep track of Julien, as well as talk with the others." He looked pointedly at his son. "In my absence, you or Legolas will watch over Ivy?"

"You've got it."

Elrond left with Glorfindel in a flurry of robes, and Elladan pushed away from the table.

"We should join them, sister."

Ignoring her brother, Ivy eyed a still-wary Legolas. "You said you'd eat after the meeting. Are you going down to lunch?"

Legolas shook his head. "Why don't you go ahead with Elladan? I'm not really hungry."

"Are you all right?"

"Legolas needs some time alone after the fireworks," inserted Elladan, taking hold of Ivy's hand. "We need to give him that time, so come with me."

"I just want to ask how he feels about the vote."

Elladan looked up at the ceiling as though begging for patience. "How do you think he feels?"

"I just wanted to ask. I don't know him that well and he still doesn't look happy," she hissed at her brother.

"Let me spell it out, okay? He may have won, but this morning was still hellish so how do you think he feels?" The twin sent a slanted glance Legolas' way before looming over Ivy in an open attempt to crowd her toward the door. "His is a sensitive soul, and now's not the time. Take the hint, don't make him spell it out. Let's go get something to eat."

Legolas hoped his silence would be read as the agreement and appeal for blessed aloneness that it was.

"I want to stay with him and help." She was not quite whining.

_How ironic the obstinacy she inherited from Aragorn that proved invaluable in defeating Julien has now become a problem,_ thought Legolas.

"You want to help? Then shut up and come on." She still dragged back against his grip on her arm, so he gave it a little shake for emphasis. "Look at him, Ivy. He wants to be alone."

"But--"

"Okay, that's it. Come on, little sister." Picking her up, Elladan tucked Ivy under his arm like a double bass violin and began carting her out the door.

"Hey!"

"You need to come downstairs with me and eat your lunch. You're too skinny as it is." He cast a look Legolas' way that said_, You owe me for this,_ and continued out of the room.

"I don't believe you're doing this!"

"Believe it, sister."

"Put me down, you Elven bully!"

Ivy grabbed the door, which only had the effect of closing it on her hands. She let go with a screech, and Legolas knew the argument would only continue in the hallway beyond the library.


	24. Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

Elladan thumped Ivy down and she spun on him. "I've half a mind to--"

"What?" He loomed over her. "Hit me? Yell at me for carrying you away from Legolas?"

"Yeah! A lot and really, really hard! I had things I wanted to ask him, and he was actually sitting still in there without anybody interrupting!"

"Questions will have to wait."

"I don't want to wait." She ducked under Elladan's outstretched arm, which was supposed to be herding her away, and headed with all speed toward the still-open library door.

Catching her by the arm, Elladan spun her back around to face him. This time, he didn't let go. "Ivy, I'm trying to help both you and my friend, so I'm gonna use the really small words, okay? Knock it off, shut up, and let's go find the Diet Coke and prawns. That's the best thing we can do for Legolas. I've known him a hell of a lot longer than you have, and I'm suggesting strongly that right now you leave. him. alone."

"But the nasty Julien vote is over and we won, so why is he still being weird?"

Stepping Ivy a few feet further from the door, Elladan cast it a watchful glance before placing himself between her and it. "Yeah, the vote is over but Julien nearly cost Legolas everything. Your new Elf friend has been well-mannered up to this point, but take it from me, Ivy, he's not up to answering your questions or making polite conversation at the moment."

"Why not?" Ivy's head turned back toward the door, still seeking enlightenment from the wooden portal somehow.

"Because he's a warrior, that's why. We're trained to meet the enemy head on and end the problem with physical force. Legolas can't just wade in with his knives and behead Julien as he would have an orc. He's been denied that easy outlet, and he's had to sit still and play nice all morning.

"He's also got to be furious that Julien would dare challenge him in the first place. On top of that, there was that little self doubt issue Legolas raised in there a moment ago. All those emotions are still swirling inside of him with no easy outlet, so he's going to need a little time to release it safely without going out and killing something. Or someone. He needs time for a deep breath all by himself without worrying about how somebody else is going to react to it."

"How's he supposed to do that in Haldir's library?"

"Legolas will find a way. He has to find a way, else he's going to be as surly and nasty as Elrohir is when Adar forces him to deal with Arwen. Please, Ivy, just trust what I say and stay out of the line of fire."

"But I miss Legolas. And I really want to talk to him."

Elladan shook his head. "Best wait until he wants to talk. And don't look so glum because he won't make you wait forever. You'll see him this afternoon for the second session of the meeting."

"Oh, joy. More meeting, more Julien."

"Yeah, he's a right spoilt bastard to deal with. Has been for years." Elladan rubbed her arm. "C'mon, if you're not going to go eat, then come with me. I have to get out of here before the second session starts, so why don't you help me pack?"

"What?" Ivy stared up at him, Legolas momentarily forgotten. "You're leaving?"

"Have to. Am needed in Wales."

Elladan turned as a deep, groaning moan followed by a dull thud sounded from inside the library. A cold draft wafted out from the room and into the hall, making Ivy shiver.

"And there he goes," Elladan murmured.

Cutting around the Elf, Ivy ran back into the room. "Legolas?"

"He's gone." Elladan came up behind her.

"He couldn't have left, we were right outside the door."

"Yeah?" Going behind Haldir's desk, Elladan laid a hand on the window through which Elrond had sent Julien tumbling earlier in the day. Yielding to Elladan's touch, it moaned again as it opened even wider. "Like I said, Legolas is gone."

"He jumped?" Coming up beside her brother, Ivy stared down at the snow, regardless it was impossible to tell Legolas footprints from Julien footprints at this height. "But there's no sign of him."

"He moves fast when he wants to."

Putting her arm out the window, Ivy caught a handful of snowflakes. "It's so cold, and it's snowing again. And - and he didn't even have a coat on!"

"Your favorite Elf won't freeze to death, and he'll be back later," Elladan assured as Ivy retreated back into the room. "He lives here, remember? We'll lock up the library as Haldir asked, and then you can help me pack."

Feeling sad and strangely disheartened, a subdued Ivy followed Elladan out of the library and down the hall to his room. Perching on the edge of the bed, she watched the Elf gather his things.

"Why are you suddenly needed in Wales?" she asked.

"My wife is dying."

Ivy sat open mouthed, and it took a moment to remember that she could close it again. "Your...wife?"

"Wife. W-I-F-E."

"You never mentioned you were married. Not once, the whole time you were with me in San Francisco."

Elladan shrugged and shoved another shirt into his backpack. "Didn't fit well with the whole 'I'm gay' scenario."

"And she's dying? But Elves aren't supposed to die! Oh, Dan, I'm so sorry." Flinging her arms around his shoulders, Ivy buried her face in his long hair as much to find comfort for herself as to offer support.

Returning her embrace, he patted her back. "No, it's nothing like that. It's okay. Really, it's sad - very sad - but okay. The short version of the story is that I married a Mortal, and now she's gotten old and she's dying. Mortals do that."

Offering a small noise of protest, Ivy could only gape at him in disbelief. "You bonded with a Mortal?"

"No, we _bond_ with other Elves. We only marry Mortals."

"I don't understand the difference." _I only understand that it feels like Legolas won't stick around, and now Dan is running away from me. Again._

"Bonding is forever, and it's done Elf to Elf," Elladan explained. "Marriage is with Mortals, and it's until their death do we part."

Ivy watched silently while he pulled a suitcase from beneath the bed to begin tossing in clothes without bothering to fold them.

"Aw, don't look at me with those big, sad, Disney princess doe-eyes." Settling beside Ivy, Elladan hugged her tight, which only made Ivy feel even more abandoned.

"I'm okay," she said. "I just wish you didn't have to go. Especially not for such a sad reason. And really especially not in such weather. It's scary out there."

"It's not like I want to go. I _have_ to go. Gwen and I have been together a good, long time, and we've been really happy, but she's in sixth stage Alzheimer's now, in the fords of the river."

"What does that mean?"

"She's pretty much on her death bed." Elladan shivered slightly, and Ivy could almost feel the woman's spirit pass through the room. "Her mind is long gone, and she isn't anyone I know anymore. She's such a mess."

Clutching his hand in both of hers, Ivy held on. "I'm so sorry."

"Adar warned both of us before the wedding - in Gwen's native Welsh, no less - that what we had was, _'roedd y cwbl yn freuddwyd gwrach wrth ei hewyllys'_ - no more real or lasting than the dream of a witch. He warned I'd have to watch her wither and die. I loved her so much, I didn't care. It's easy to make light of that end of the rainbow when you've got so much time ahead of you.

"Now, she hasn't recognized me for months. She thinks I'm just some strange guy living with her, tormenting her as I try to take care of her. Every time she sees me - even if I walk out of the room only to walk back in - she wants to know who I am and why I'm holding her prisoner. She says she wants to go home, but home for her isn't in this world any longer. Her mind has already left on a journey where I can't follow, and the rest of her body's failing now in so many ways that I know it won't be long before she passes.

"No one should die alone, so it's shameful to admit I was hoping she'd pass on while I was up here. But the nurse hasn't called to tell me she has, so I have to go back." He looked down at his fingers entwined with Ivy's and stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. "I wish she'd go. She's miserable, and it's hard to watch her suffer like that."

"How did you end up living with me that year if you were married to Gwen?" Ivy asked quietly.

"Adar knew how much you needed someone to help you that first year at uni. He doesn't trust many to look after you, so he asked me to go. And I was glad to go, so don't start thinking any 'poor Dan' thoughts."

Ivy nodded and tried to accept the truth of his words through the emotions now filling the room. "Did your wife know about me?"

"We had no secrets. She knew everything and supported my being with you."

Ivy stroked his fingers. "It must have been difficult to be apart that long."

"It was in the beginning, so Adar talked to her about you. Gwen liked kids though we never had any, and Adar explained you were like a kid getting thrown into the deep end of the pool, or a preschooler getting abandoned in a big mall somewhere. Gwen wanted to protect you then, too." Dan smiled, but Ivy thought the smile was starting to look a little wobbly.

"If there had been some way we could have explained the gay guy having a really old girlfriend, Gwen would have come and taken care of you, too. But her memory was already starting to go, so it would have been bad all around. I called her a lot to keep in touch, and she also got a lot of art done that year without me distracting her. Some of her last good work."

Elladan's eyes swam with unshed tears. "I wish you could have met because I know you'd have gotten on. Gwen painted, too - beautiful little miniature watercolors of kids and cats, ponies and landscapes from around our village. Some of them are just so tiny and so detailed at the same time, I really loved those. It's too late now for you to meet her because everything Gwen dreamed, everything she was...it's all gone. I've been missing and mourning her for years, no matter her body's still here. My Gwen is already dead, her body just doesn't know it yet.

"Anyway..." He drew a deep breath. "The moral to this sad tale is, whatever you do, don't marry a Mortal. Adar's right, being left behind is too damn hard."

Patting Ivy's hand, Elladan released it to swipe at his eyes, then turned to peer speculatively into the depths of his bag. "Am I still taking Legolas' old coat to London?"

"Yes, thanks for remembering."

"It's not a big bear, is it?" He reached into the bag to shuffle things around.

"Not all that big. I'll get it for you." Ivy sprang up from the bed, glad to have something useful to do. Darting across the hall, she tried the door to Elrohir's room and found it unlocked. Retrieving the lumpy, tightly closed plastic bag just inside the door, she carried it across the hall.

"Could I talk you into leaving your hair dryer?" she asked. "Mine won't work with this current."

"Sure. It'll mean more room for the bear." Retrieving the appliance from the suitcase, Elladan tossed it onto the bed. "Anything else you need?"

Ivy shook her head and watched her brother struggle to fit the big plastic bag into his suitcase.

"Are you sure you want to put that in there?" she asked. "I mean, what if the plastic breaks? Won't all your clothes end up smelling like dead bear?"

"Good point." He pulled the bag out and zipped the suitcase. "You take charge of this and make sure I don't forget it."

Ivy watched Elladan shrug into a heavy wool and leather bomber jacket. "I won't see you again before going to Australia with Elrond, will I?"

"Probably not." The Elf gathered his keys, wallet and motorcycle helmet. "But it's not like you won't see me ever again. I've lived in Warra before and am planning to move back once Gwen has passed on, so you'll definitely see me there."

"Oh. Well then." _That's a relief,_ she thought, but couldn't very well say it out loud. "Before you go, do you have any final words of wisdom about making it through the rest of the days here?"

"Poor Ivy." Setting aside the motorcycle helmet, Elladan drew her back down onto the bed. "You're far from alone, or I wouldn't be leaving."

She looked at him doubtfully, and Elladan gave her a squeeze. "Don't forget that Legolas is your first protector because of that promise he made Aragorn. Legolas may be further away than you'd like at the moment, but if Julien dares so much as to look at you wrong, Legolas will blacken both his eyes so he won't be able to see out of them for two weeks. In addition to Legolas, you've got Adar, who feels more than entitled to take care of you. He'll drive you crazy with it, just see if he doesn't."

"Because I've agreed to go back to Oz with him?" Ivy asked.

"Because you've accepted him as your father, but most of all because he loves you. You've no idea how frantic he's been about you all your life. You're within his reach now, and he'll move this world and the next to keep you safe.

"But back to Legolas. Lairg County and all it holds is pretty much his kingdom, and we're smack in the middle of it when we're in this castle. Adar sometimes tries hard to forget that, but even the great Lord Elrond has to submit to Legolas in Ithilien. That means right now you're Legolas' to hold safe, and Adar has to hang back and let your first protector do his job."

"No matter what happens?" Ivy pressed.

"No matter what happens," Elladan confirmed. "If something comes up, Adar may want to help, but he has to wait for an invitation or permission from Legolas. So if you need anything, honor Legolas' authority and ask him for it while you're here.

"The minute you leave here for Oz, Adar's care will pick up where Legolas leaves off. Don't blame me if you end up feeling stifled by the cotton wool Adar's got planned for you." Elladan gave her a crooked grin. "I doubt he'll even wait for the plane to leave the runway before wrapping you up in it. And don't forget about Glorfindel who also seems to like you - so far, anyway. You can't go wrong if he's watching from the background, because he's the most powerful among us. Nothing much suppresses, oppresses, impresses or scares him."

"So the professor got it right when he said Glorfindel's the equivalent of a Maia in everything but physical form, and that's only because Glorfindel needs a body and the Maiar don't?"

"He got it very right when it comes to the golden wonder from Gondolin."

"Wow," was all she could manage. _Two powerful Elves and a mostly-Maia are lined up to baby-sit me? What in the world made Mom run away from them and throw in with Julien?_

"Just try never to cry wolf or ask any of them to bring you a glass of warm milk before bed," Elladan concluded.

She laughed despite herself. "You're silly."

"On occasion." Getting to his feet, the Elf retrieved his suitcase and helmet. "You're okay, right?"

"Yeah, thanks to your little pep talk."

"Good." He wrapped his free arm around her shoulder. "Now let's find Adar so I can tell him I'm leaving."

Ivy snatched up the trash bag and borrowed hair dryer before following Elladan out of the bedroom. When her brother made a sharp left rather than head for the staircase, she swung open her own bedroom door to toss Elladan's hair dryer onto the bed and paused to watch it bounce on the quilt that was tightly stretched over multiple blankets. _Huh, Bridie must have made my bed for me._

Stopping at the door next to his, Elladan rapped smartly on the wood. "Hey, Julien! Whatcha doin'?"

"Bugger off!" came the immediate, snarled answer.

"Aw, that's not very nice. Just wanted to see how you were faring after losing that vote this morning."

Julien's answer was in Elvish. It didn't sound pleasant, but Elladan laughed in delight.

"What did he say?" Ivy whispered as she stole up beside him.

"Nothing I'm going to repeat, or Adar would have my pointy ears. Let's just say Julien isn't a very happy camper right now."

"At least we know where he is."

Elladan smirked. "I knew he'd sulk after not getting his way. Hope he stays in there for a good long while."

~ # ~ # ~

Leaving Elladan's things at the front door, Ivy and the Elf moved on to the dining hall. Elrond and Glorfindel seemed to have cornered the four female Elves who had voted for Julien, so rather than disturb his father, Elladan headed for Haldir instead.

"Hey," Elladan began, "we're here to tell you Julien's upstairs in his room pouting like the sullen brat he is, and I'm leaving for Wales."

Haldir turned from glowering at the napkins on the buffet table. "You're not staying for dinner? Or for the ceiledh, for that matter?"

"I need to be with Gwen."

"Yes, of course." Eyeing the bomber jacket and tight black leather gloves Elladan was fishing out of its narrow pockets, Haldir asked, "You're going back on the bike?"

"That's how I got here, yeah."

"That monstrosity isn't safe in this weather," Haldir protested. "Your father will never allow it."

"Allow what?"

Ivy jumped to find the Elf-lord suddenly at her elbow. "You sneak really good."

"My pardon." His hand at her back was reassuring. "What would I never allow?"

"Elladan must leave us early and expects to ride his motorbike in this weather all the way back to Cilycwm," Haldir relayed.

"Not all the way. The weather is bound to improve once I get off this hill, and I'm stopping off in London."

"Can you not delay with the rest of us until the storm clears?" asked Elrond.

"Gwen needs me," came the quiet answer, which seemed to explain everything, Ivy noted. "As for the bike, I have to go as I came, don't I? I'm certainly not walking home."

"You can leave the motorbike and take my Range Rover. I'll get the keys and bring it round." The marchwarden headed off without waiting for Elladan's response, only to turn back. "Make sure to sign a proxy over to your father before you leave to cover this afternoon's voting."

"Sign a proxy. Right."

"You will need provisions in case you are delayed or stranded in the snow," said Elrond. "Haldir, could you please ask Erestor to see to it?"

"Of course."

Snatching a linen napkin from the buffet, Elladan prowled the drawers of the sideboard behind the table until he found a pen. Quickly scribbling the demanded proxy, he shoved the linen at his father. "It's snowing hard again. If I don't leave soon, I'm not going to get out."

Ivy trailed after both Elves as they headed down the corridor to the front door.

"Gwen can't be left alone at all now," said Elladan. "It being this close to Christmas, I was only able to get a nurse to stay with her until tomorrow afternoon."

"I understand, but wish it were otherwise."

_That makes two of us,_ thought Ivy.

Picking up the motorcycle helmet beside his suitcase, Elladan thrust it at Ivy. "Could you ask Haldir to keep this with the bike? I won't be needing it after all."

"Sure." She set the helmet on the bottom stair as Wendy came tearing down from above.

"Elladan! Wait! Oh, wait just a moment!" She clattered perilously down the staircase in her dainty heels, clutching at the banister to stop her controlled fall. "Oh, sweetie, Haldir just messaged me to say you're leaving for Wales in the Rover."

"I am."

"Drop me in London on the way?" she asked, blue eyes wide and guileless.

"Sorry, no."

"But I simply have to get back!"

"But I simply am not taking you."

Grabbing his suitcase, Elladan followed his father through the front door and down the stone steps. Not wanting to miss anything as Wendy darted out into the cold after them, Ivy followed with the plastic bag containing her bearskin coat. A blast of snowflakes hit her face and she shivered as the icy wind streaked without mercy through her heavy sweater.

Wendy tottered after Elladan. "But why not?"

"Because it's safe and warm here, and you'll be well taken care of."

Vacating the driver's seat, Haldir left the car running. Clapping Elladan on the shoulder, he said, "There's a hamper of food in the back, along with a hot flask of tea and a bottle of good brandy. A couple of blankets are there as well."

"Thanks."

"Safe trip home. Just bring my Rover back in one piece, please?"

Haldir hurried back into the house while Elladan opened the back door and shoved his case inside. Darting between him and the Range Rover, Ivy pushed in her plastic bag.

"All tucked in safe? I'll take good care of Mr. Bear, never fear." Elladan patted Ivy on the head before rounding on Wendy who was tugging on his sleeve. "Look, I have to get back but you don't. I'm taking a huge chance traveling in this weather."

"I'm more than willing to take the chance with you. I'm sure you're a good driver, and I must make the holiday sales!"

"No. I'm not about to endanger you for the sake of Gooey and Pravda."

"That's _Gucci_ and _Prada_, you idiot!"

"Exactly." Elladan slammed the car door. "There's no guarantee I'll even make it out of the Highlands safely. Call me whatever names you like, but if I get stuck on the side of some road, the last thing I want to worry about is your survival as well as my own. You'll stay here and wait for the storm to clear, just like you've done every other year."

"Oh, you are an evil wretch!" Wendy spat. Shoving past Ivy, she stalked back into the house and slammed the door.

"She likely just locked the two of you out," said Elladan.

"Very likely." Coming up behind Ivy, Elrond encircled her in his arms, which also had the effect of wrapping her up in his robes. His very warm, voluminous robes. "What are you doing out here without a coat?"

"Freezing," she said cheerfully through chattering teeth before opening her arms to Elladan. "Group hug good-bye?"

"Group hug," the Elf agreed, stepping up to wrap himself around her and his father.

_This is nice,_ Ivy thought. _Too bad it's not under happier circumstances._

"Call tonight when you get home," Elrond's baritone vibrated against Ivy's back.

"I have a couple of errands to run in London, so I'll stay tonight at The Berkeley," Elladan rumbled against her front. "It's going to take until after midnight for me to get to Knightsbridge."

"Then call from the hotel and again when you get home tomorrow."

"Will do."

Giving Ivy a final, hard hug that took her breath away, Elladan kissed her forehead with cold lips and slipped behind the wheel.

"Safe journey, my son."

"Talk to you soon." A final wave, and Elladan was gone in a swirl of snowflakes.

"Shall we see if Wendy did indeed lock us out?" Keeping an arm around Ivy, Elrond continued lending his warmth as they ascended the steps up to the door. Trying the doorknob, the Elf-lord pushed it open. "Quickly now, in with you."

She needed no further encouragement to return to the relative warmth of the stone castle.

"...refused to take me to London! He's driving that great big...car-thing, with plenty of room for me, but he _refused!_ Can you believe that?"

Ivy glanced up to see Wendy standing with Julien at the top of the stairs.

"Stop whinging, sister," he murmured. "We've an audience."

Locking gazes with Julien, Ivy tried hard to stare him down, but he only narrowed his gaze and looked down his nose at her. Taking Wendy by the elbow, he hurried her out of sight.

"So they are both upstairs," Elrond murmured. "That leaves the field clear for Glorfindel and Haldir to talk with the others. As for us, you need to get warm, and we both need some lunch before the session begins."

Ignoring the Elf-lord's hand at her waist that was gently urging her to move forward, Ivy stared up at the space the Elven brother and sister had vacated. "You know, I just realized I've seen Julien before this weekend."

"Where?"

"He knocked on my front door in San Francisco a few weeks ago," Ivy said absently, still staring at the top of the stairs. "Didn't identify himself, but asked for my mother. Didn't seem to believe me and tried to shove inside after I said she wasn't there. That frightened me, so I slammed the door on his foot. I grabbed an umbrella from the hall stand and was getting ready to stab his toes when he finally gave up."

"Indeed." Elrond's grip on her waist tightened, and his entire body suddenly seemed to loom larger, more protective.

Alarmed, Ivy looked up at the Elf-lord, only to meet storm-grey eyes that had gone very cold. "Have I made an enemy of Julien? Is it safe for me to go home again after I voted against him?"

"I do not know the answer to that. I do know he had no business being on your doorstep. You are coming home with me to Warra, so the matter is of no immediate consequence as Julien cannot follow you there. But his intrusion and lack of manners in San Francisco will be addressed, and he will be kept far away from you in the future."

Ivy shook her head, disbelieving. "How can you possibly control where he goes in this world?"

"We have our ways, up to and including preventing his leaving Britain."

"What, you're going to steal his passport?"

Elrond inclined his head. "If need be, we will have it revoked. Legolas and I will see to it."

"You've got that much power at your fingertips?"

"That and more when it is necessary." Retrieving Elladan's motorcycle helmet from the stairway, Elrond took Ivy's hand to lead her down the corridor. "Come, daughter. There are things we must tend before the meeting resumes."


	25. Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

"Rather than babysitting me, aren't you supposed to be off pumping people for information as to why they voted for Julien?" asked Ivy as she once more found Elrond taking a meal with her in the kitchen.

"You are far more important than...pumping...anyone for information. From now on, Legolas, Glorfindel or I will always be with you."

"Like the Elven Secret Service?" Off of his nod, Ivy prodded, "Erestor's here. He could look after me."

"Erestor's busy looking after his pots at the moment," said the austere Elf in question, carrying two more dishes out of the kitchen.

"Julien's still sulking upstairs," Ivy continued her protest. "So I'd be fine on my own for a few minutes."

"I am not leaving you alone. In any case, I spoke with Verce briefly a few minutes ago, but she is unwilling as yet to discuss the specifics of her humiliation."

"Humiliation?"

Elrond nodded. "As we suspected, Julien is at the center of this misadventure. Verce said enough to give me a fair idea of what made her vote for him, so I was able to direct Haldir and Glorfindel in finding out if Julien commanded other votes by making the same insidious demands. Even now, they are pressing for more information. My being with you works to our advantage, as my presence seems only to alarm and intimidate Sindohte, Alasse and Tamurile at the moment."

"How could anyone find you intimidating?" Ivy dared tease.

Leaning back from the table, Elrond steepled his fingers and leveled a stern gaze at Ivy. "Tell me, daughter. When did you receive your last student loan, and how did you spend it?"

"Erm..." The room suddenly got much smaller, and Ivy quickly racked her brain for the information the Elf-lord wanted. "The check came the middle of August. It went for tuition and class supplies."

"What supplies?" He never blinked, and Ivy didn't dare look away.

"Oil paints, canvas and a couple of frames, some paper and watercolors for preliminaries. I think I bought some paint thinner too, but I didn't get any new brushes, and--"

"That is well." Elrond held up his hand to silence her before sliding that same hand across Ivy's where it was gripping hard the edge of the table. The Elf-lord's smile was utterly benign, and his command seemed to retreat along with an oppressive pressure against her mind. "Come along now, it's safe to let go."

His grey eyes twinkled as he pried her fingers loose. "I am certain you did exactly what you were supposed to with the funds you were given. Now, let me ask you something else. Do I have any right to know how you spent that money?"

She thought for a moment. "No. But you asked in a way that made me feel like I needed to tell you, and right now."

"Did I not intimidate you into giving me the answers?"

She squirmed where she sat. "Maybe. But you didn't twist my arm. You just made me feel like..."

"Like?..."

"Like you could make things really uncomfortable for me somehow if I didn't tell you what you wanted to know."

"Exactly. Now, Haldir and Glorfindel are interviewing the four women who voted against Legolas because it was obvious to us during the meeting that they did not enjoy doing so. Verce's conscience is not as clear regarding her vote as yours is about your student loans. She is friends with the other three woman, and my instincts tell me they may be blameworthy as a group. I do not yet know the logical particulars as to why, but with the help of Haldir and Glorfindel, I expect I soon will."

"And if they still won't talk, it'll be time for you to interrogate them?"

"Exactly."

His anticipatory smile was panther-sleek, and Ivy shivered. "So glad I'm not Verce, Sindohte, Alasse or Tamurile."

Erestor pushed into the kitchen with a stack of dirty plates. "I've an update for you, Elrond. Glorfindel has Alasse whispering confidences to him next to the English trifle, while Haldir's got Tamurile and Sindohte spilling all before the fireplace."

"Then the interviews are a success. That is good to know. Thank you, Erestor." Elrond all but purred before turning his attention back to Ivy. "Now, because of my status and power, I could certainly have intimidated them into offering up the information we seek. But that would have caused a great deal of resentment, which would certainly have damaged my relationship with all four women and led to negative repercussions in Greenwood's future. So I set the far less intimidating Haldir and the ever-charming Glorfindel on them to gently ferret out the details."

"You _are_ sneaky."

"So you said before. And you would be right." Looking satisfied, the Elf-lord leaned back from the table.

"You know, you look positively demonic when you smile like that," Ivy observed.

"Do I?" said Elrond, all innocence.

"It must be the pointed ears," said Erestor, joining them at the table. "Admittedly, one does catch more flies with a bottle of vinegar than with a bowl of honey."

"Isn't the cliché the other way around?" Ivy asked.

"The cliché is wrong," said Erestor. "You catch more flies with cider vinegar because flies like rotting fruit."

"Huh. Who'd have thought? So why aren't you on Greenwood's board of directors?"

"I was until a few centuries ago," said Erestor, "but I don't lead or fight any more. I feed people."

"It's as simple as that?" Ivy marveled.

"From where I am sitting, yes. It is. Feeding people brings me contentment. Fighting - in any capacity - does not." Erestor eyed Elrond as he buttered a roll. "Do you believe Julien really feels Legolas has served too long?"

Rather than answer, Elrond asked, "What do you believe?"

"I think a nasty little boy made a grab for all of the marbles today and lost. If Julien had played nice with his toys, he might have had his turn at piloting the ship, same as the rest of you. When he was all grown up, of course."

"I fear Julien would rather plunder the ship than pilot it," Elrond observed.

A cell phone rang somewhere close to Elrond, with a ringtone that sounded suspiciously familiar to Ivy.

"That's from the soundtrack to _Lord of the Rings,_ isn't it?"

"It is not," the Elf-lord denied as he retrieved the phone from a hidden pocket. Studying the little electronic intently, he poked a button or two and avoided Ivy's amused scrutiny. "It is a piece of music entitled 'Anduril,' which is in fact from _Return of the King._"

"Well, that makes all the difference, doesn't it?" she muttered to Erestor, who arched an eyebrow.

"Anduril was delivered by my character, was it not? So I think it rather appropriate." Poking another button, Elrond set the phone in the middle of the table. "Mae govannen, Elladan. Are you well? Do we need to come find you?"

"No, no rescue party, I'm fine. Listen, I'm calling to let you know the road down into the village is really bad. There's black ice under the new snow, and I nearly landed in the loch a couple of times. Don't let anybody else leave, hey?"

"We won't. What are you plans now?"

"I trust the Rover now that the road has leveled out a bit, so I'm going to go on regardless it's still snowing heavily. The villagers are saying the road down to Inverness is barely passable, but you know how they exaggerate, so I'm counting on that. If I run into trouble before Inverness, I'll try to come back."

"If you do run into trouble, call and we'll come after you with horses. If I don't hear from you, you will still call when you get to London, yes?"

"Absolutely. Okay, I'm out of here. All love to you and Ivy. And remember, Adar, in the book version _I_ delivered Anduril." Elladan ended the call.

"Are you worried for him?" Ivy asked as Elrond slid the cellphone away.

"A bit, but he has faced heavy snows like this before. If the Rover fails, Elladan will take shelter with someone and get word to us."

Ivy thought a moment. "I have to ask, who actually did deliver Anduril to Aragorn?"

"It was a community effort. I ordered the shards of Narsil reforged weeks before the Fellowship left Imladris. Word spread beyond the blacksmiths, and the entire community was in attendance when I delivered the sword into Aragorn's hands. No one wanted to miss watching him test the weapon."

"Oh. That makes sense. Who'd he test it on?"

"Glorfindel and Legolas."

"Consecutively?" Ivy squeaked.

"At once and together," Elrond clarified. "The Hobbits were most impressed."

"Where is Anduril now?"

Elrond thought for a moment. "I believe Legolas retained possession of it after the kings of Gondor fell in the fifth age. We are all of us a bit careless with our antiquities, so it is no doubt shoved inside a dusty cupboard in one of the old, unused wings. That is not to say Legolas doesn't know exactly where the sword is. If you asked after it, he would undoubtedly excavate it for you."

Glorfindel pushed through the door to throw himself into a chair and beam at Elrond. "We're making real progress out there."

"So why are you in here?" asked Elrond.

"I took a short break to look for my son and talk to you. He's not upstairs, so I thought he might be with you and Ivy."

"Legolas jumped out of the library window about half an hour ago," Ivy offered.

"He chose an external blizzard over internal politics? Can't say I blame him." Snatching an apple from a bowl of fruit sitting in the middle of the table, Glorfindel made quick work of slivering it. "Erestor, have we any honey?"

"We certainly do. There's fresh bread keeping warm in the oven as well. I'll cut a slice or two for the little leaf."

_Little leaf?_ thought Ivy._ What a nickname for someone who's as elegant, tall and strong as Legolas. I guess he wasn't always?_

A moment later, Erestor set before Glorfindel a plate of hot-buttered bread slices slathered with honey. They smelled delicious even to Ivy, who had already eaten.

"No doubt Legolas is in the stable," said Glorfindel, heaping slices of apple around the bread. "Ivy, may I suggest you take this out to encourage his appetite?"

"He said he wasn't hungry before he bolted, and Elladan insisted I should give Legolas time to be alone before bugging him."

"I'm sure he did. Where is your coat?"

"Upstairs." Ivy looked from Elf-lord to Elf-lord, and all three looked back at her placidly. It seemed even gruff Erestor was trying hard to look guileless, which made Ivy all the more suspicious. "Why do I get the feeling you're all trying to get rid of me?"

"We would never do any such thing," said Elrond.

"Unless they had official company business to tend that's not fit for young ears," said Erestor.

"It's not fit yet, anyway," muttered Glorfindel. "Never fear, you'll hear it when Legolas hears it, after all the puzzle pieces are assembled and all of the shouting is over. In the meantime, I need Elden-the-international-lawyer's help for a few minutes, which means Erestor will retrieve Haldir's coat for you from the mud room, and you can bundle up tight before going to feed my son his apples."

Erestor brought the coat in short order, along with a pair of heavy gloves and three long tartan wool scarves. Two of the scarves, Elrond bundled around Ivy before stuffing her into the voluminous coat. The third scarf - bright red and yellow - Glorfindel wrapped around her neck.

"This will help us locate you if you get lost in a snowdrift between the house and the stable."

"If that's supposed to reassure me, it doesn't." Ivy was barely able to move, so well-padded was she against the cold. Turning awkwardly toward Elrond, she protested, "I thought you weren't going to leave me alone."

"You won't be alone. Legolas is mere feet away in the stable, and I will be in here. You have but to scream for help, and all of us will come running. Erestor included."

"Wouldn't miss it," the grave Elf confirmed.

"You said you don't fight any more," Ivy challenged.

"I would enjoy watching the mayhem."

Haldir pushed open the swinging kitchen door. "Elrond, Glorfindel? May I speak with you?"

"Of course."

"I'll be there as soon as I see Ivy off." Glorfindel turned her about.

In short order, Ivy found herself pushed out the back kitchen door and into a cement-floored workroom ringed with tall windows, gleaming steel tables against the plain stone walls, and a broad, deep sink with black plumbing that looking positively Victorian. Even though Ivy was technically still inside, the cold pinched her face.

"What's this room for?" she asked.

"We clean game here before taking it inside to cook." Glorfindel pushed open the back door and snow blew in to swirl around Ivy. "Out with you."

"Where am I going?" Off of Glorfindel's blank look, Ivy tried again. "I mean, where is the stable?"

"Down the path that skirts the gardens and straight past the ramshackle old buildings." Standing on the threshold, the golden Elf stared out into the gathering gloom of the afternoon. "Come to that, it is a bit gloomy out there. Well then, follow the stone wall that's mostly covered with snow, pass through the bower of trees beyond it, and the stable will be the big shed-looking building in front of you."

She peered through the swirling snow at the merest grey outline in the distance that may have or may not have been the stable. "I'll find it. If I can't, I'll yell for help and...you're sure someone will come running?"

"At the very least, you'll be rescued by your father, Erestor and myself. But fear not, the stable is the biggest building out there. There's not the ghost of a chance Julien would be out in weather like this, and I have it on the best of authority that the Abominable Snowman frequents only Nepal which means you'll be perfectly safe."

"Safe in a blizzard. Right." Still she hesitated and shuffled half around to peer up at the legendary Elf who seemed blissfully unaware of the wicked wind violently whipping his long blonde hair. "Are you _really_ sure it's okay to invade Legolas' solitude?"

"Yes." He sounded every bit as certain as she felt uneasy.

"But Elladan said the warrior in Legolas needs time alone to deal with not being able to pound Julien into oatmeal."

"Dear Ivy." Stepping out into the storm, Glorfindel took her gently by the shoulders. "Legolas has had his time alone while all of us have been talking. It is now time for him to come out of his self-imposed isolation. Your gentle affection in the form of small touches - and snacks - can help him do just that."

"You want me to touch an uptight warrior-Elf?"

"I want you to help me end my son's self-imposed isolation, so yes, I would like you to touch him in any small way you feel comfortable doing. Legolas likes you, so at the very least he should be willing to brood with you out here in the cold."

"Uh-huh. Sure, he will."

"I don't believe he will reject your touch, but if he should--"

"How, exactly, will he do that if he does it?" she asked warily.

"He will shy like a wary cat or move a few steps away from you. If that happens, I wouldn't pursue touching him."

"Absolutely I won't." _I must be crazy for agreeing to this._ _But with that hypnotic, brown-velvet voice, Glorfindel could likely tell me to jump off a cliff - or walk out into a Highland blizzard to touch his crunchy warrior-son - and I'd trust it would be all right. _She wanted to give a deep sigh, but thought her lungs would freeze if she dared. "Okay, I'm off to find the stable before Legolas' apples freeze."

"Remember to scream if you need help." Glorfindel closed the door, and the silence of the storm descended.

"Yeah, I'll do that." Turning into the blinding snow, Ivy resolutely waddled forth.

#

_A/N: As always, thank you taking the time to review and all your kind comments. This update doesn't take the story as far as I wanted it to, but real life has done a number on Greenwood's and my emotions/ability to write over the past couple of weeks. I am writing as fast as I can, so I'll update again as soon as I can. _

_I know some of you are in Legolas withdrawal; much more of him is coming. The story spans four years and you're still only in the first week, so patience, Padawan. It really is Legolas and Ivy's story. The problem is that they've got this big family that includes pushy Elf-lords who want equal time - much like in real life when your parents interfere with your spending as much time as you'd like with your best friend or boyfriend. _

_When I began this story, I naively thought it would have about as much depth and length as a Harlequin or Mills & Boon Romance. Bwaahahahahahahaa! We are now drowning in both depth and length (the outline alone is over 70 pages long), but from what some readers have to say this may not be a bad thing, so Greenwood and I are running with it. The upside is that you'll get a highly detailed world that goes on and on and makes you perhaps feel like it could be real "somewhere out there." The downside is that it takes a lot of time to write properly because there are so many emotional/visual layers to it and we have to go carefully, carefully._

_Some quick feedback for you reviewers: _

_Thank you for writing to say you like the way we're writing Legolas as well as Ivy. We didn't want him to be perfect - or, actually, want any Elf to be perfect, 'cause perfect is boring to read._

_If you're wondering why Legolas is so moody/broody, etc., you might want to read "Through the Heart of a Child" which was written/archived by Greenwood and me here in 2002. It explains how Gandalf first met his little leaf in Mirkwood and why Legolas came to live in Imladris as a child. It also explains a bit of why Legolas is the way he is. _

_Glad you liked the reference to Star Wars. It will definitely come up again. _

_You know there really are Elves out there? You just have to believe. _

_I'm am really, truly sorry for not having more Legolas in this update. The chapters to come will have TONS of him in it. I am not toying with you as an audience, but I am following an outline to very carefully lay the foundation of this world. I know you're frustrated - so is Ivy. So am I because I can't write on this thing as often as I could if I were, say, still in school. #pointed look at those who read this story while in class or to avoid doing their homework. been there, done that, and i miss it. enjoy it while you've got it, 'cause it won't last forever# _

_Anne Rice? Wow...I don't think we could ever write with that much originality, emotion or description, or have characters as perfect and individual and lasting as she does, but thank you for the comparison. (Am I the only one who misses Lasher?) _

_Julien will get his. That's a promise. _

_Elrohir and his mohawk will definitely put in an appearance in Warra. Boy, will he ever._

_As always, thanks so much for reading, and for your continued patience._


	26. Chapter 26

CHAPTER 26

Ivy couldn't remember the last time she had felt like the only person alive in a freezing world of where almost everything she saw was blanketed with white. There was no real sound out here, only the wind whispering in her ear (_very __cold__ ear_) and the hiss of the snowflakes settling atop those that had fallen before. Otherwise the world had a muffled, unreal quality about it.

The snow did protest her movement in it, squeaking and crunching beneath her booted feet as she balanced Legolas' treats in her wool-mittened hands. Another shiver stole up Ivy's spine, galvanizing her decision to move forward, either to find sanctuary against this wind or to finish her mission and return to the relative warmth of the stone monstrosity from which she had just been so unceremoniously shoved. Her breath came in puffed clouds and it hurt to breathe, so Ivy took the end of the scarf and covered her mouth and nose to breathe through it.

"Forward on, then. Sooner started, sooner thawed. Maybe, if they let me back in the house."She felt somewhat reassured by her own voice, however much it was muffled behind wool. "Follow the wall, and then go through the trees, he said."

Pull the foot high, scoot it forward through the top few inches of snow, plunge it uncomfortably deep in the icy white to find the ground, and repeat. Progress was ridiculously slow.

"It's been too long since my ranching days," she muttered through the red wool, "and I really haven't missed this a bit. At least I knew where our barn was. This is unbelievably stupid--out in a blizzard, and I don't even know where I'm going."

More snow stung her eyes and she blinked it away, then batted at the burn with a fat, mittened hand.

"They want to guard my every breath inside, but hey, we need a break from babysitting now, so go outside and play in the storm, whether you want to or not. What's with that? Is it like the Elvish version of 'go play in the traffic, little girl'? Too weird."

She forged onward through the swirling snow and the path seemed endless, but at least it was a real path which she found encouraging, believing that it must lead somewhere. Persistence was finally rewarded; what Glorfindel had told her proved true as a big, ghostly building-shaped shadow did loom up beyond the last wall of skeletal trees. Ivy thought it had to be the stable because there were fenced paddocks and frozen water tanks attached to it. Or at least there were dull grey winter outlines of them, covered with the same innocent-appearing fluffy frosting that was currently numbing her toes.

Snuggling Legolas' plate in the snow piled atop a fence post, Ivy beat the accumulated ice and snow off of the latch, then opened and closed the only gate she had obvious access to. The plate accumulated a bit of snow while it waited, and she tried to shake it off, but it seemed to want to stick there. Shrugging, she mushed forward again.

Carrying the plate across the paddock, she eyed the tall door looming over her. The track it was supposed to roll along was as buried as everything else out here, and Ivy's Montana winter experiences told her she was unlikely to win a fight to make the door budge even a little.

Not only that, she'd been bundled so tightly into Haldir's coat and scarves, Ivy wasn't sure she could bend over to set the plate in the snow, much less retrieve it if she proved to have the physical strength to roll back the door. Eyeing the shallow depressions in the snowdrift close to the door, Ivy thought they might have been made by Elf-feet, so perhaps there was another way to get inside the barn?

"Legolas, are you in there?" she called. "I come bearing treats from your father."

When there came no answering call, she thumped one booted foot against the door. Snow promptly slid off of the eaves to land atop her and the plate. Leaping back, she shook her head. _Maybe I should just resign myself to eventually being buried alive by the storm?_

The door rolled back abruptly, but only a small space was opened, and the driving snow took full advantage to swirl inside. Glancing up at Legolas where he stood before her with one hand braced on the door and the other against the frame, with his hair whipping wildy in the wind and the snowflakes not daring to land on him, Ivy was once more struck with how beautiful he was. She wavered on the threshold as he narrowed his eyes.

"I can go back to the house if you want to be alone," she shouted against the wind. "Here!" she added, thrusting the fairly unidentifiable plate toward him.

"No! Come inside!" Stepping out into the storm, Legolas shielded Ivy with his body before all but pushing her over the threshold and leaning against the heavy door to roll it closed once more.

Blocked the storm may have been by the sheltering stable, but the wind still moaned fiercely around the weathered boards like a resentful Scottish ghost. Pulling the scarf away from her face, Ivy glanced around the generous entry stacked high with bales of hay.

A generous amount of loose hay was scattered in random depths along the aisle, while beyond was a lengthy corridor with long equine faces staring with blatant curiosity over stall doors. The older horses watched Ivy with a sort of wary interest, as though asking what bizarre behavior might be anticipated from this newcomer. The foals on the other side of the aisle were obviously delighted at this new entertainment.

Turning, Ivy stared at Legolas for a moment. He had no outerwear on, just as he had not when he leaped from Haldir's library window, but the Elf didn't look like he was freezing to death. In fact, he was breathing rapidly as though from exertion.

_Was the door that hard to open? _she wondered.

He stared back, and Ivy suddenly felt the need to look away. Attention returned to the plate in her hands, and she tried to shake some of the snow off of it without tipping its contents into the loose hay.

"I don't understand why the stuff Glorfindel gave me didn't blow away."

Coming around her, Legolas took the plate from her to examine the offering. Giving a slight smile, he turned it upside down. Everything remained in place, refusing to fall.

"It can't blow away, for the cold honey has glued both bread and apple to the plate." Turning the plate right side up once more, Legolas arched an eyebrow. "This is what my father had you bring me?"

"Erestor got the honey bread ready for you, but Glorfindel cut the apples himself."

Legolas burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"They've had you bring the only food I would eat when I was twelve. Comfort food, I think it would be called now?" Legolas set the plate on the dirt floor next to a bale of hay before collecting a rake leaning against the wall.

"Was your nickname Little Leaf then?" Ivy asked.

That stopped him cold. He turned to look at her for a moment, then just as abruptly turned back to raking up the loose hay. "It was. Where did you hear of it? Don't tell me Glorfindel is calling me that."

"Actually, it was Erestor." Covering her cheeks with her gloved hands, Ivy tried to warm her face. Stiff cheek muscles made her sound funny, even to her own ears.

"That name is something I've not heard it for many hundreds of years. Regardless Julien's intrigues, I am not so badly off - or strange - now as I was that first year in Imladris."

Legolas smiled, and with the appearance of those deep dimples it seemed to Ivy as if the sun itself were coming up over one of the stalls. The Elf then returned to trying to corral all of the hay, raking it into small piles and shoving it into stalls, seemingly at random.

"Did the maid not show up today?" Ivy asked.

"The maid?..."

"You're cleaning up." She gestured with her robot-bundled arms. "Why is all the hay in the aisle, anyway? That's nice grass hay, too nice to be thrown down to walk on."

Legolas raked even more vigorously and seemed to be evading Ivy's gaze. "It is nice hay, isn't it? We bail our own, you know."

"So were you examining the summer cutting?"

"No, the disorder is my doing. I am trying to hide the evidence, as they say."

Ivy considered that for a moment and followed Legolas down the aisle. "You came out here and threw straw around?"

Silence and more raking met that question.

"Could you open that stall door for me?" Legolas waited while Ivy fumbled with her fat mitten-impaired hands. "I am responsible for the hay," he finally admitted. "I...fought with it."

Reversing the rake in his hands, he used the tines to flip the straw into the stall and past the legs of the very intrigued yearling inside.

I needed to..." Leglas continued after a search for the right words. "I needed to confront something. Physically."

"You came out here and beat up bales of hay when you really wanted to beat up Julien?

"Essentially yes."

"I guess that would explain why you've bits of hay in your hair."

Grinning, she pulled free one of Haldir's great mittens and moved forward to gently pick at some of the chaff in his hair.

Legolas tolerated her grooming him far longer and with better grace then Ivy thought he would before urging, "Door please?"

"Right."

Ivy hurried past him to open the next stall door and struggle to restrain the eager occupant who viewed the open stall door as an invitation to come out and play in the aisle.

"I did exorcise my frustrations on the bales. I wasn't expecting company," he concluded, sounding almost embarrassed as he shoved hay into the next stall.

"Wow. I wish I could have seen it," Ivy said, wistful. "It must have been quite a battle."

"Ah, and now she mocks me."

"No, seriously, I bet it was something to see. I'd love to watch a warrior go through a kata or whatever Elves call it. I'd really love to see you in action. If you wouldn't mind, of course."

Legolas stopped raking to turn and stare at her. His expression was hard for Ivy to decipher, but she thought it fell somewhere between disbelief and amazement.

She was the one to look away this time, picking hay wisps out of a yearling's forelock and mane. The battle must have been of epic proportion, as it seemed everyone and everything in the stable was sporting at least some hay.

"I would be glad to show you, if you sincerely wish it," Legolas offered softly.

"Oh yes, I wish. I'd love it." She tried to smile, but her cheeks felt oddly mask-like. She hoped the expression wasn't too unnatural.

Giving that little half smile of his, Legolas shook his head. "This was not the time, though, for many reasons - not the least of which is that I would never have brought you out in this weather. What was my father thinking?"

"He and the others wanted me out of the house."

"They ordered you out in this storm?"

"I think it was time for the grown-ups to talk," she said carefully. "Secret things seem to be going on, things not for young ears - pointed or otherwise."

Legolas scowled. "There are limits, and this was not the best of choices for you."

"I'm here, I'm fine." She shrugged. "Glorfindel's directions were good for finding the stable, so no harm, no foul. It's all good, right?"

Legolas did not reply, but put more effort in to moving the hay. The aisle was being tidied in record time, and Ivy hesitantly picked up a broom to follow along and clear up the finer bits he missed. She handed out handfuls of hay to those who seemed to feel slighted in the tidying efforts, working in silence with Legolas until the task was completed and Ivy was left feeling uncertain and awkward. Finally she went back and collected the plate of frozen, snow-limned goodies from its place on the stable floor.

"So...the snacks are delivered. Should I leave now?" Ivy watched Legolas turn back toward her, but a sudden nudge at the plate in her hand distracted her. "Hey! That's for him, not for you."

The lips of a delicate chestnut muzzle made another grab for the bread even as Ivy tried to snatch it out of reach, but the bread didn't budge. Clearly surprised, the filly made yet another grab, stretching out her neck to rake her teeth across the bread.

Cold, congealed honey strung away from the bread even as it adhered to the filly's teeth. Backing away, she snorted and wiggling her lips in bewilderment. Ivy giggled, and to her surprise Legolas joined her in laughter. Moving forward, he ran a reassuring hand down the filly's neck as he rubbed at the stickiness on her muzzle. The filly paused as she enjoyed his caress, but backed away to continue her snorting and champing.

"I would be grateful for your company if you'd stay." The Elf's smile was definitely warmer, his tone gentler than Ivy had ever heard it.

Settling on a bale of hay set against the wall, he indicated the space beside him. "Sit with me, if you will, and tell me why my father would send you out with frozen apples."

"There's nothing more to tell. They all wanted me out of the way for awhile."

Sinking down beside him, Ivy discovered they were sitting nearly shoulder to shoulder. _This would be nice if it wasn't so cold and I didn't have five layers of clothing on._

"All of them?" Legolas prompted. "This makes no sense."

"Your father, mine, Haldir and even Erestor seemed giddy - for Erestor, I mean - because they've discovered why Verce and the others voted against you. Julien's definitely part of it, and they wanted me out of the way for some sort of private business conference. Your father said I'd find out what it was all about when they told you. They definitely seemed pleased, though, so it must be all to the good."

Shivering, Ivy wrapped her arms around herself.

"You're cold."

_Ya think? _Her freezing mind shouted, but took advantage of chattering teeth to slow her down to a more polite response.

"A little," she stuttered as another fierce shiver seized her.

Getting up, Legolas shoved a second bale of hay against the one they occupied. He then strode into a nearby stall only to return in short order with an armful of tartan wool blankets resembling those Elladan had found for Ivy in the chest in her bedroom. Shaking them out, he threw the entire lot over her.

Unlike the barn of Ivy's childhood, these blankets didn't smell of animals and dust, but of clean, sweet hay so lovely even her frozen nose could appreciate it. There was, however, loose hay still clinging to the edges that had climbed aboard in the trip down the aisle.

"Turn about and put your feet up," Legolas instructed.

Mystified, Ivy did as he asked, only to have him slide in behind her and tighten the blankets around her.

"Now, lean back against me."

_No problem,_ she thought, doing just that. _Small touches, said Glorfindel? This seems pretty major to me. And he's offering! How cool is this?_

"Are these horse blankets?" She dared to wipe her nose on the edge as she sniffed, the icy air making it drippy and embarrassing.

"No. I believe they were stored here by the couple from the village whom Haldir hired for foal-watch last spring. Apparently the nights were still a bit too cool for their comfort."

Reaching past Ivy, Legolas gathered the blankets to bundle them even closer. Wrapping his arms around her, he slid his long legs to either side, tightened them against her and hugged her close.

"You should feel warmer in a few minutes." His mouth was just above her ear.

_I don't believe this!_ thought Ivy. _Who are you, and what did you do with the skittish, uptight Elven warrior I met on a LearJet less than a week ago? Or how about the one who jumped out a window to avoid me an hour ago?_

He was holding her so close, she could feel his breath stir the hair against her ear. Forcing herself to relax and savor the moment, Ivy closed her eyes, the better to concentrate on Legolas' steady breathing against her, his strong arms tight around her.

"You and Elrond are getting on, then?" he asked.

"Mmm," she responded, reluctant to open her eyes or even nod lest she break the spell. "Sure. He's wicked cool."

She felt the chest move behind her at her response, but decided to ignore the possibility that the Elf might have been laughing at her.

"Elrond told me he had to save you from Julien."

"That was cool, too. Just by saying Julien's name, Elrond sent him scuttling off like a roach into the shadows last night. He was amazing - Elrond, I mean. Not Julien." She smiled at the memory. "I didn't even know who he was then, but I knew he was one big, protective Elf."

Turning her head, Ivy felt Legolas' hair brush her cheek before he tilted his head down to look at her and she fell into eyes the color of the sky.

"Thank you for...taking care...of Julien this morning." She stumbled over the words as her stomach did flip-flops. "And thank you for checking my doors last night."

"For checking..."

"I think it's really sweet how you make sure all the doors in the house - even the ones on the balcony - are locked up tight before going to bed. It feels really good, having an Elven protector or three."

"I am glad you felt safe last night."

"With you watching over me, how could I not?"

Legolas' face was mere inches away from hers, and Ivy marveled that anyone could have such thick, dark lashes. His skin was flawless except for the shadows beneath his eyes that spoke of suffering and looked so entirely out of place that Ivy felt a sudden surge of protectiveness.

_That shouldn't happen to him,_ she thought._ If he takes care of me, why can't I take care of him? I'd like to try, but he'd never let me. He's tried so hard for so long to look after everyone, does he ever let anybody take care of him? Even his father?_

"Are you going to eat what Glorfindel had me bring you?" she asked, feeling more than a little nervous while Legolas looked placidly back at her, and the silence seemed to build and build between them. "I don't think the filly touched the apples."

"I am not hungry." He tightened his grip as she drew breath to protest. "Truly, Ivy, I am not." His head dipped so low, she thought he might brush his forehead against hers. "Let us get through the rest of the meeting this afternoon, and I once again promise to eat supper tonight."

"If you don't, I'm telling Erestor on you."

Those dimples crept out again. "I doubt you would have to tell Erestor anything. He is probably watching my eating habits even more closely than are my father and you."

"I'll bet Erestor would have voted for you if he was still on the board," Ivy grumbled.

"Perhaps. But Erestor chooses to be far away from corporate turmoil. He has served that sort of role in the past, and his wisdom is still much valued, but we honor his wish to feed us instead." Legolas offered another small smile. "It isn't as though we don't enjoy what he does for us now."

Whatever else Legolas might have said was cut short when the stable door shrieked on its tracks as gloved hands heaved it open against the wind. Ivy jumped violently, startled out of her comfortable reverie with Legolas. Her only comfort was that he flinched as well and tightened his grip on her.

Two large, snowy forms pushed inside the barn, the last one in trying to yank closed the door once more. The other turned to add his heft to the effort, and the door groaned shut again. The silence and absence of biting wind was almost as shocking as the door being slung open had been.

Ivy and Legolas stared in tense silence while Elrond and Glorfindel beat the snow from their shoulders and shook it from their hair. A moment later, both Elf-lords turned to find Ivy and Legolas still snuggled beneath the blankets atop the bales of hay. Glorfindel gave them an approving grin and winked at Ivy, but Elrond's eyes narrowed, his mouth thinned, and he looked somewhat less than pleased.

"And what are we doing here?" he all but growled at Legolas.

"Protecting her from the cold," the Elf replied with equal chill in his voice. "You may have noticed that the weather - which you pushed her out into - is rather icy?"


	27. Chapter 27

_A/N: Greenwood is responsible for this chapter. I only tinkered after the fact. :) Wednesday_

CHAPTER 27

"Storm's getting worse." Glorfindel beat more snow from his hair. The prickly silence continued around him and the Elf-lord glanced up to note his son's stiffness, then Elrond's rigid stance. "Just thought you'd like to know."

"Yes, we can see that," Elrond finally responded, his gaze never leaving Ivy who was still firmly wrapped in blankets and the encircling arms of Legolas. "I think we'd best go back to the house. Now."

The arms around Ivy tightened a little more, as though to hold her in place should she try to rise.

_Oh, this is not good,_ she thought. _What silent message is being sent between the Lord of Imladris and the Lord of Ithilien?_

"But I'm warm," she protested, all too reluctant to leave the warm cocoon Legolas was providing and remembering Elladan's insistence that she was Legolas' to protect while she was within the borders of Lairg. "And...and you said you had a meeting. Is it over? What happened with the ladies?"

"Ivy, I would like to take you back to the house." Elrond was looking over her head now and staring hard at Legolas.

_I'll just bet Legolas is returning that fierce look, which means they're both behaving like two tomcats getting ready to square off. All that's lacking are the nasty wailing songs, but maybe this is the silent Elven version of _The Fur Person's_, 'May your milk turn sour, may your blue eyes blear, and may you get the mange.' But why? Legolas and I aren't doing anything._

"Did something go wrong with the meetings?" Ivy asked.

"No, we have news." Glorfindel jumped in with an eagerness that told Ivy she wasn't imagining the tension between the two Elves. "Very interesting news. Much to tell."

"Which we can discuss inside by the fire, in comfort." Elrond offered his hand with a regality that was somewhere between invitation and command. "Daughter."

_Oh great,_ she thought. _I've had a Dad for two whole days, and he's already gone bug-nuts. I welcomed his rescuing me last night, and I'm sure he expects the same reaction today. He obviously wants to get me away from Legolas, but why? Legolas isn't going to hurt me - he's my protector!_

Glorfindel stepped toward the pair sitting atop the bales of hay. Once clear of Elrond, the golden Elf very deliberately turned back and scowled at the former Lord of Imladris.

Blinking, Elrond shifted his focus to Glorfindel. Neither Elf-lord moved or spoke, but Ivy still had the feeling some sort of communication was going on. Elrond didn't look quite so menacing when he finally shifted his attention back to Legolas.

Ivy looked up at Glorfindel, who still wasn't moving. _Did he and Elrond just have one of those private mind-to-mind conversations like the one the professor said went on in_ Return of the King's _"Homeward Bound" chapter between Elrond and the wizard and that couple from Lothlórien?_

_Think, Ivy! What is the big deal with Legolas keeping me warm? Dan used to tell me that every action stems from either love or fear. I've seen Elrond act with love and this isn't it, so he has to be scared of something. Of Legolas...what? Being with me? Touching me? _

_He doesn't want Legolas to be my friend? I shouldn't have any friends, I should only have Elrond? No friends, only a...Daddy? That felt right. __Gotcha, Dad. _

_Listening to her instincts and taking a deep breath, Ivy jumped into the silent fray._

"Ada?" _Daddy._ Ivy layered the word with every bit of uncertainty and insecurity she'd felt since first boarding Greenwood's sleek little corporate jet in San Francisco.

Glorfindel's head whipped around, and Elrond looked genuinely startled. _Good._

"Have I done something wrong, Ada?" Ivy pursued. "Have you changed your mind about letting me go to Warra?"

The Elf-lord's hostility melted away instantly. He offered a small smile, and his grey eyes were kind once more.

"You have done nothing wrong, my daughter. In fact, you have done wondrously today, and I am glad to hear you still wish to come home with me. We shall leave as soon as we can clear the runway."

Ivy slowly let out the breath she'd been holding.

"Well played."

Legolas' voice was barely a breath against her ear and certainly too soft for Elrond to hear. Unwilling to risk a whispered reply, Ivy patted his thigh beneath the blankets.

"Of course Ivy's still coming home with you," Glorfindel started in, "regardless her introduction to our merry band has had her meeting hostile strangers, being accosted by a nutter, being attacked by a gilded cherub and seeing tardy twits chucked out the window. Of course she wants to be subjected to more Elves in Warra."

Glorfindel turned to scratch the ears of the filly nibbling at his sleeve, then peered down into the stall. "Here now, who gave you all this hay?"

"I did," Legolas replied wearily. Ivy could sense his resignation that, sooner or later, his battle with the hay a la Julien would need to be confessed.

"I helped," Ivy inserted.

"Did you now?" asked Glorfindel.

"In Montana when it was this cold we always fed more hay. My grandfather and the Future Farmers of America said that digestion generates more body heat and keeps the gut moving so the horses have less chance of colicking."

"Aye, they're right." Glorfindel nodded. "We've known that for millennia, but the farmer scientists feel they've discovered it all by themselves. Reinventing the wheel, just like always."

Moving across the aisle he peered over another stall door. "Why give extra hay only to the foals and not the mares? They're feeling slighted. And have you even looked at the gentlemen in the end stalls?"

A rhythmic banging started in response to his question.

"Never mind, I hear you haven't." Glorfindel headed for the ladder leading to the loft and the older bales of hay that were to be fed first. "They're good stallions, you know?"

"You said you brought news?" Legolas attempted to redirect the conversation.

"We do," said Elrond, tucking his hands inside his sleeves like some Jedi Master standing before the council on Coruscant. "Thanks to the efforts of Haldir and Glorfindel, we have gotten to bottom of the convoluted tale of who voted for whom and why, and the matter has been effectively resolved."

"'Tis a wonderful tale full of back-biting, mayhem, illegal activities and betrayal." Glorfindel peered down on them from his lofty perch. "Good as any bad Mortal movie if you added a little bloodshed. We need more hay. Nobody move."

"Blackmail and bloodshed?" Ivy echoed. "I thought Elves were above all that. Especially the bloodshed."

"We may yet see blood spilled, for Julien is entirely unaware of what has transpired. I doubt he will be pleased when he finds out how we've interfered with his plans." Elrond's wicked smile said Julien would likely be the only one displeased.

"So?" Ivy leaned forward. "What are the details?"

"Heads up!" warned Glorfindel.

A bale of hay came crashing from above to send Ivy flinching back against Legolas. Another bale followed, bouncing toward them and making Elrond step back.

The Elf-lord scowled up at the loft. "Are you finished?"

"No, I'm not, thank you for asking," came the cheerful, disembodied answer, followed by a third crashing bale. "We'll need more hay for evening stables," Glorfindel explained after jumping gracefully from the loft into the center of the aisle. "No sense going up there twice in only a few hours."

"Details, please?" The Elf's warm breath brushed against Ivy's hair, and his voice rumbled against her back. "Or must I beg?"

_Oh, wow,_ she thought._ I'm sitting in the middle of Middle-earth's finest while they tend both horses and politics. Mom, I understand you not trying to explain this - how could you? - but I'm so glad you sent me to Lairg._

"Details are plentiful." Glorfindel spared Elrond a quick grin before cutting open the first bale to a chorus of nickers that encouraged haste. "Shall I begin the telling?"

The nickering down the long aisle grew more urgent, as did the thumping from the stallion stalls.

"It seems you are being summoned. I shall begin." Elrond flicked hay fines from the loft out of his hair and composed himself. "The reason Sindohte, Tamurile, Verce and Alasse voted against you is quite simple. It is known as blackmail."

"Julien, yes?" Ivy didn't bother hiding her eagerness.

"Most definitely Julien. He has apparently been plotting this takeover effort for several years."

"Which demonstrates more intelligence than I've previously given him credit for." Glorfindel spoke with pitchfork in hand, some distance down the aisle. "I knew he was a little weasel, but apparently he's become a crafty little weasel as well."

Scooping up two more flakes of hay, the blonde Elf moved to the next stall. The steady thumping continued, reminding him that others were waiting.

Elrond turned slightly toward Glorfindel. "Could you please deal with the door banging? The competition is annoying."

"Immediately, oh, great Elf-lord," Glorfindel sniped in return. Having delivered his two flakes, he caught the plastic twine on the second bale of hay and dragged it toward the far end of the aisle.

Catching Elrond's eye as he turned back, Ivy smiled. "It sounds like this is going to be quite a story." Thumping a neighboring bale with her boot, she invited, "Want to sit down? Drag up some hay and join us."

Elrond hesitated and then, much to Ivy's surprise, he nudged a bale closer to them. Settling beside her, Elrond lifted Ivy's feet and stretched her legs out across his lap. He arched an eyebrow but refrained from commenting as the blankets remained tented over her, due to Legolas' bent knees beneath them.

Laying his hands across her ankles, Elrond said, "Yes, it's quite a story. Ivy, have we told you of Sindohte's pride and joy in the form of an off-Broadway theatre called The Renaissance?"

"Um, I don't think so."

He nodded and folded his robes more closely about his daughter's legs. "Sindohte owns this little theatre, has been acting as its producer for some time, and is very proud of its survival. About five years ago, she mounted a play that was highly successful by whatever standards they use to judge such things. Sindohte had purchased not only the performance rights, but the film rights to it as well."

"What play was this?" Ivy asked.

A short, mirthless laugh answered her from down the aisle. "None you've ever heard of, wherein lies the heart of the matter."

"Don't tell me," said Legolas. "Sindohte had visions of branching out from theatrical production to film production, as she had visions of beginning her own touring ballet company during the Great Depression?"

"How did you know? asked Elrond. "In the past, Sindohte has proven she has the ability to take ideas and make them reality. In this case, however, she grossly miscalculated, as did her friends."

"You're getting ahead of your story," said Glorfindel, heading back up the aisle. "Back up and tell it properly."

"Very well." Elrond gave a long-suffering sigh. "Over lunch with Alasse, Sindohte shared her dream of producing a film based on this play."

"Is Alasse still the director of the World Folklore Society and Museum in Manhattan?" asked Legolas.

"She is," Elrond confirmed. "And she offered to invest her own personal monies in Sindohte's movie-making scheme. Alasse told Haldir that if Sindohte had sold the rights it could have fetched quite a bit of money. Unfortunately, they called Tamurile in Los Angeles and she assured them it would be simplicity itself to start their own production company because--"

"Because like, _hello_..."

Ivy gaped as Glorfindel set aside his pitchfork and swished unabashedly down the aisle and back to them. Throwing back his long blonde hair, the Elf cocked a hip, planted both hands on his waist, and rolled his eyes.

"Don't you know Tam has, like, _dated_ Hollywood actors, directors and producers and, ohmygod! She _lives_ in Westwood!"

"Which means what, precisely?" Legolas sounded annoyed, while Ivy struggled to not burst out laughing at the most bizarre imitation of a Valley Girl she'd ever seen.

"It means that in addition to running Greenwood's Los Angeles import company, Tamurile volunteered to rent the necessary office space, furnish and staff and manage it locally, and house Sindohte whenever she flew in from the East Coast. She also assured the others that good directors abounded on every Hollywood street corner, so all the girls had to do was put up the funds to produce the film themselves once they'd hired a director. Tamurile had all of the...what did she call them?"

"Contacts." Glorfindel pulled up his own bale of hay and joined the party.

"Yes, contacts to bring Tamurile's play to the big screen in a spectacular, Oscar-winning fashion."

"No." Legolas moaned softly, echoing out loud what Ivy was feeling.

"This sounds like a bad idea to me," she said slowly, "but then, I just paint little pictures."

"You, my dear, are an artist with a great deal more wisdom than our resident film experts," Elrond snapped. "They made a wonderful business plan and began executing it. Of course Tamurile told her dear friend Verce about their project - you'll remember meeting Verce this morning, Ivy."

"Is she the one who runs Greenwood's import company in Brussels?"

"Yes. Verce wanted in as well. So all four of them donated considerable personal funds to this marvelous cause."

"How considerable?" asked Legolas.

"Some millions. They then mentioned the joint venture to Wendy at the next board meeting - which was a few years ago - and of course Wendy thought they were all brilliant, so she bought in as well."

"There's the kiss of death right there," Glorfindel commented, brushing hay from his sleeves. "If Wendy thinks it's 'brill', you'd best run away. And hang on to your coin purse as you go."

"So our merry band of entrepreneurs began their production company and hired themselves a director, who also adapted their script as he was willing to do two jobs for one salary."

"'Creative control' he called it," inserted Glorfindel.

"And they merrily set about hiring staff, selecting locations, auditioning actors, renting equipment and making their film," Elrond said. "It practically beggared them, but after some months the principal photography was finally finished."

"Then came the nasty surprises." Glorfindel took up the story. "They needed more money - much more money - for editing and other post-production expenses. For special effects...for a dozen expensive things that were not in the initial budget."

"Oh, wow," breathed Ivy. "Even I know there's more than just getting it in the can, and all I do is watch _Entertainment Tonight_. Didn't they research anything or do some sort of a feasibility study before they started?"

"Ah, of course not." Glorfindel scoffed. "They had all the experts they needed in the wunderkind director and the combined experiences of Sindohte and Tamurile."

"In short order they needed more money." Elrond reclaimed his story. "Much more money. So Sindohte contacted Wendy in London to let her know what was happening, and she called back with another brilliant and simple plan. Julien had suggested the solution was to have Tamurile and Verce borrow from their respective import companies. They ran them independently of Greenwood Limited, after all, and no one would know. They could simply put the money back once the film started raking in those distribution profits. Julien said this sort of thing was done all of the time in the Mortal world."

"Um, Adar, correct me if I'm wrong, but don't Mortal CEOs get burned over stuff like this all of the time?"

"They do. They are also sent to prison for it. It's called embezzlement."

Legolas swore in a rapid stream of Elvish, and Ivy felt sick. _Adar's not even at the end of this story yet. How can it get any worse?_

"And so all were agreed and more money appeared in the coffers to complete this epic work of entertainment. The final cut of the movie was completed and debuted at the Cannes and Toronto Film Festivals." Elrond fell silent.

"You can't leave it there," Ivy protested. "What happened?"

"No one liked it," Elrond said simply. "Not one reviewer printed anything positive about it, and no one offered to distribute it. And so, the five producers concluded their very expensive adventure under the guilty burden of monumental debt and dishonest activities."

Ivy could only stare in horror. She knew she was gaping at Elrond and finally remembered to close her mouth.

"How could they be so naïve?" she demanded. "So stupid when they've been around forever and are supposed to be smarter than Mortals? How can Elves be that dumb? The professor's Elves weren't that dumb."

Glorfindel shrugged "As Elladan is fond of saying, 'It beats the hell out of me.' And now for the really good part." He grinned at them, clearly enjoying what was to come. "The four original film producers went crying to Wendy, complaining of the horrible and unjust panning of their film. Even worse, they confessed that there was no hope of any return at all on their investments, much less any future profits."

Said Elrond, "Tamurile relayed to us that while Wendy was kind enough to sympathize, she wasn't too upset as she had not, surprisingly enough, invested more than she could afford to lose. For her, it was a mere tax write-off. The rest of the ellith tried to repay the import companies from their bi-annual dividends, but there wasn't enough coming in. Or, rather, it wasn't coming in fast enough. By this time, Haldir was calling to schedule the corporate audits on both import companies."

"Audits?" Ivy asked.

"There are annual audits of all books belonging to Greenwood's subsidiaries," said Legolas. "Or, at least, there were before I went to Alaska."

Elrond nodded. "There still are. They are required by government taxation entities worldwide, and we are in keeping with all Mortal business procedures. The audits is what really sent matters crashing."

"So the filching of the funds was sure to be exposed?" asked Ivy.

"Under unspeakable scandal and humiliation," Elrond confirmed.

Glorfindel grinned. "At the very least, Haldir would find out about Verce and Tamurile's unauthorized borrowing, and he'd tell Elrond, the great and terrible."

Ivy shook her head. "Why didn't they tell you themselves?"

"It might have something to do with the fact that Verce grew up in Warra," said Legolas. "The others may have been trying to protect her."

Ivy twisted to look round at Legolas. "From what?"

"From me. My perceived reaction, if not my actual one," admitted Elrond. "Verce's mother, Eirien, was of Imladris. She adored Arwen and moved to Ithilien after my daughter married Aragorn. Verce's father, Thann, was an Elf come to Ithilien from Mirkwood at Legolas' invitation. Thann and Eirien went with me to Australia during the Clearances that took place after the Battle of Culloden.

"Their daughter Verce was born into my hands in Warra," Elrond continued. "I taught her to read and write in English as well as Sindarin and watched her grow up. Her parents and I taught her better than this. She _knows_ better than this."

"Verce undoubtedly knew the penalty for failing you," Legolas said softly.

"She did not fail me." The Elf-lord sighed deeply. "She has disappointed me. I expected better of her. And the others."

So what happened to make them vote today with Julien?" Ivy prompted quietly.

"Oh, that." Glorfindel rubbed his hands together. "This is where the plot thickens...well, even thicker. Verce and the others cried out their fears to Wendy once more. Obviously her friends were upset and in trouble, and so Wendy went back to Brother Julien with the horrible news. He did his 'There, there' and 'Oh, how tragic' commiseration, and then Julien magnanimously offered the four partners individual loans from his personal funds with which they could pay back the companies in the whole. The books would then balance, no one - meaning Haldir or Elrond - would be the wiser, and each partner could take her time paying back Julien. There were only a few simple contracts to sign, and it would all be over."

Ivy wrinkled her nose. "I may be wrong about this since I've only just met Julien, but I get the impression he doesn't do anything out of kindness."

Glorfindel nodded his approval. "You're quick. I like this one, Elrond. As for Julien's charity, we've seen the final results today."

"He called the loans?" asked Legolas.

"He did," Elrond confirmed. "Last month, after accepting payments for two years, he called in the loans. Of course they hadn't the money to pay off his totals, any more than they had the money to pay off the original debt to the import companies. Julien then threatened to go to the media and reveal Verce and Tamurile's misbehavior, so there would be much scandal for Greenwood and possibly criminal charges as well.

"But Julien would forget about all that if they'd just vote for him at this meeting. Such a tiny, simple little thing, that. Just vote with him. Never mind what it was for, just vote his way and the sun would shine on everyone once more."

"They can't have fallen for that!" Ivy protested.

"They did." Elrond spread his hands. "They were desperate. And that concludes the tale as to why they voted against you, Legolas."

"It was nothing personal," Glorfindel assured. "All four ellith are horribly embarrassed about the whole thing, and Elrond has already raked Verce over the coals for not coming to him the minute the problem began years ago."

"But what are we going to do now?"

"We." Leaning over, Glorfindel patted Legolas' blanketed knee. "I like that. This Queen's Daughter is one of us for certain now."

"She's my daughter as well as Queen's Daughter," said Elrond. "I should think she's proven that to anyone's satisfaction today."

"She is Aragorn's worthy heir as well as Queen's Daughter," Legolas answered.

"_She_ is sitting right here, listening to you and not feeling all that noble," said Ivy, "and she's asking...that money's still owed Julien, right? What do we do to fix this?"

"It's already done, QD." Glorfindel smirked. "Greenwood Limited's paid off the loans, and now the girls owe Greenwood. While you were out of the house, Halden Greenwood wrote a check to Julien Lovell, Elden Warlow countersigned it as is required for an amount so vast, and Wendy cheerfully accepted payment. She then gave all four debtors individual receipts with the notation 'paid in full,' while her brother was still venting his wrath over the vote upstairs in his assigned room."

"We're not having that," growled Legolas. "Julien will pay for any and all damages if I have to personally wring it from his future dividends."

_Ooh, growly Legolas,_ thought Ivy_. Neat. Hmm, I wonder if he knows about Haldir's cherubic mess yet?_

"And so the matter is resolved," concluded Glorfindel. "Not one of the girls wanted to vote for the sneaky weasel, and they send their apologies."

Legolas straightened behind her. "They apologized?"

"They did," Elrond confirmed. "All are still most distressed at being forced to vote against you. It was not their wish, and they swear to never do so again."

"I see."

"How they could have let it come to this is appalling," Elrond added. "They have all been thoroughly chastised for not bringing this to me, as we could have handled the matter easily and many months ago."

"I get why Verce didn't want to fess up," said Ivy, "But what about the rest of them?"

"Isn't it obvious?" said Glorfindel. "At the very least, they were proud and fearful of humiliation. Weren't thinking straight. Haldir's no threat, but they certainly lived in dread of what the Great Elrond and his Eyebrows of Doom would say to them."

"Eyebrows of _what?" _Said eyebrows leaped into motion, but this time they rose rather than furrow over burning eyes.

"You heard me. You've got the Eyebrows of Doooom," Glorfindel intoned dramatically. "It's become quite the catch-phrase as of late."

"Why?"

Glorfindel waved a gloved hand, airily dismissing the cited eyebrows that made a sudden leap downward once again to perch above scowling eyes as if to illustrate precisely what Glorfindel meant.

"It's those movies at work again. The actor they hired to portray you certainly could use his eyebrows to good effect. Scary. It's as if he were already acquainted with you before climbing into the robe and the ears. In any case, it was more than our ladies could face, given the severe consequences awaiting were they to beg an audience with our resident Elven Mafioso."

Glorfindel shook his head and looked mournful. "They panicked, poor things, and I suppose hoped that the mighty Valar would rescue them. Or that Greenwood's officers would see things set to rights after Julien revealed their sins to the world--though I can't see how that would have improved their lot any. We'd have had the same mess to clean up but needed a much bigger, public mop then."

"And Julien knows naught of it yet?" Legolas asked.

"Not one word," a beaming Glorfindel confirmed. "We should be able to witness the revealing soon, unless his sister has rushed into the viper's jaws in our absence. Should be great fun. I'm quite looking forward to it, since it should result in a Julien tantrum of magnificent proportions."

"We will likely tell him at the session this afternoon," said Elrond, "which I am sorry to point out is scheduled to begin rather soon."

Legolas suddenly tightened his grip on Ivy once more. "What about the contracts?"

"The ones they signed for Greenwood or for Julien?" asked Elrond.

"The originals for Julien. You know he will not be satisfied with simple repayment. With their signatures on those original papers, he can still go to the media and so essentially owns them still. We must get those back."

Elrond considered for a moment. "Speaking officially as Greenwood's legal counsel, and considering the very specific receipts Wendy signed, there is very little Julien can do. Our little entrepreneurs have company books that match now, regardless the failure of their film. Julien might run to the media and draw the public eye Greenwood's way, but he'll only come up looking the fool for it, as Greenwood will officially ridicule his story."

"Verce and the others could also sue him for slander if he goes to the press," Ivy pointed out. "Or libel. Whichever. I doubt his gentlemen's club in London would like that much."

"Oh, good point!" exclaimed Glorfindel. "Thank you so much for pointing that out. I doubt we'd want to prolong Greenwood's time in the public spotlight - or in court against Julien - but we can use it as a threat to his humiliation, and use it immediately. Well done, QD."

Both Elven lords looked at Ivy approvingly, while Legolas gave her a little squeeze to let her know he agreed.

"Come on, it's not that big a thing," she muttered, staring at the stable floor. "I'd be blushing if my face wasn't frozen."

"With that, perhaps we should return to the house. Daughter?" Releasing Ivy's feet, Elrond rose gracefully and held out his hand once more.

This time she nodded. "Okay, let's go."

Legolas gave her one last squeeze before beginning to peel away the blankets.

"Eee!" Ivy yelped as the warmth fled and cold air rushed in to replace it. "Oh, that's wicked!" Leaping to her feet, she grabbed Elrond's hand as her teeth started chattering. "Can we hurry? I don't want to be late and get tossed out the window."

Elrond enfolded her close before moving toward the door. "Julien has been repeatedly tardy, which has left us awaiting his pleasure as to when we might start our meetings. His arrogance was not to be tolerated, and I warned him what would happen if he didn't respect the scheduled meeting times. Getting tossed from the window was his choice."

"And you've not been warned you'll be tossed out," inserted Glorfindel, assuming his position at the vast stable door, "so you've nothing to worry about."

"Oh, thanks, because I'm not up to flying in this snow. I'm not sure I can walk in it again, either," she added dubiously, eyeing the door and knowing from the continuous howling what was waiting on the other side.

"It was unfair of us to send you out here unprotected," rumbled Elrond, enclosing her in his robes.

She could only sink into his warmth. _I love how he and Legolas both seem to be into snuggling._

"Excuse me?" Legolas bristled. "I've been protecting her right along this afternoon, and I do think my efforts have been satisfactory."

"My pardon, Legolas." Elrond offered a slight bow. "Most satisfactory, yes. My daughter hasn't frozen yet, and I thank you for that. But we must now return with all possible speed to the house and its warmth."

Enfolding her hand in his larger one, Elrond wrapped his free arm about her shoulders before nodding to Glorfindel, who heaved open the door. The wind bit and the snow swirled violently in at them, diluting the sanctuary of the stable's warmer, still air.

"Off we go."

Ivy felt more than heard Elrond's words against the roaring wind, and dove out into the blinding snow to head up what she hoped was the path back to the house. Behind them, Legolas paused with Glorfindel to close the door tightly. A moment later, father and son bounded up on either side of Ivy and Elrond to stride out into the deep snow and tend to the gates.

_The path has disappeared, and I can't even open my eyes against the wind to see the trees now,_ Ivy noted with some alarm. _It really has turned into a blizzard out here. I hope Dan's okay._

"Stay with us, and we'll have you inside in just a moment!" Elrond shouted into her ear.

Glorfindel moved closer on Ivy's other side to block the wind that was trying to bowl her over, while Legolas pushed past all of them to break a path in the snow and lead the way.

_If this is what it means to be part of an Elven family, I could really get used to this,_ Ivy thought, _because these people are absolutely serious about taking care of one another. I've never known anything like that._

Squinting against the bitter cold, she snuggled closer to Elrond._ I'm out here in the Scottish Highlands a few days before Christmas, in the middle of a nasty blizzard with people I've only just met - Elven warriors, no less. And for the first time since Grandfather died, I feel safe. I feel like I could actually belong with them. _

_Wow. Merry Christmas, Ivy. _

She blinked away the blinding snow crystals that stung her eyes to see the first glimmer of welcoming light from the castle's mullioned windows. Ivy smiled to herself, regardless her cheeks threatened to crack under the cold. It had been a most tumultuous few days with more to come, but she actually felt like she might be coming home.


	28. Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

"So it's true that Elves don't feel the cold?" Ivy asked breathlessly, shedding her borrowed coat, frozen mittens and many scarves onto the kitchen table while Legolas joined the others in stamping his feet and shaking off the snow.

"It is true to a degree," said Erestor, clearly unhappy with the indoor snowfall and the ones who had brought it, "else my kitchen would be buried in winterwear, wouldn't it?"

Bundling up the offensive clothing, he shoved through the swinging door, presumably to return everything to Haldir's mud room.

"Seems to me that _some_ Elves like warm coats in this weather, else they wouldn't own them," Ivy grumbled.

"When Erestor gets back, will he order us to clean up the puddles we're making on his nice, clean tile?"

"He might ask it," Elrond acknowledged.

"But not of Elrond or me." Glorfindel gloated.

Legolas scuffed a booted toe through the melt-water. "It is my floor, is it not? There's not that much water, and it will dry soon enough."

"I dare you to point that out when Erestor returns." Sliding an arm across Legolas' shoulders, Glorfindel hugged him tightly. "You've been living just beneath the Arctic Circle, so this must be naught but a balmy spring day to you."

"It's a bit too breezy at the moment for my liking. And for the record, I wore a bear in Alaska." Wet streaks of melting snow trickled down Legolas' forehead. Shaking his head, he pelted his father with water droplets.

"Ai! Stop that, you wildling!" Leaping back, Glorfindel swiped his face with a sleeve. "You've been in the woods too long. All your manners have gone."

"Sorry. Hermit habits, I suppose." Catching up his hair, Legolas squeezed the long strands tight between his fingers to strip more water down its length. "But your own snow is dripping away, so I can hardly see how my wetness makes any difference."

"It's the principle of the thing. This is _my _snow. You should keep yours to yourself. Slinging it around like that, it's like dealing with a wet dog." Any sting the words might have carried was dissolved by Glorfindel's grinning as he delivered them.

A barely damp Elrond stepped away as Ivy made to follow Legolas' lead with her own wet hair, and Ivy eyed the Elf-lord.

"How did you manage to stay dry?"

"The raw silk of my robes repels the snow and wicks away the water."

"Disgusting, isn't it?" said Glorfindel.

"But your hair isn't made of silk, and it looks dry. A bit waved on the ends, but dry." Reaching up, Ivy dared to run her fingers through Elrond's black hair where it fanned across his shoulder. Once she had started, she seemed reluctant to stop. "Oh, your hair's wet on top, but entirely dry underneath. That is too neat."

"_That_ is what comes of having a Maia in one's family tree."

Elrond glanced at Glorfindel. "What has that to do with anything?"

"Surely you remember 'The Lay of Leithian' with its wonderfully clear description of your ancestor? '_There Melian came, the Lady grey,'"_ quoted Glorfindel, "'_and dark and long her tresses lay,_ _beneath her silver girdle seat and down unto her silver feet._'

"I remember," said the Elf-lord, sounding well and truly irritated. Shivering slightly as Ivy continued playing in his hair, Elrond reached up and took her hand gently in his. "I do not have hair down to my feet, and I do not understand what you are trying to impart."

"I've met your great-great-great-grandmother Melian the Maia," the golden Elf pointed out, "so I happen to know you have tresses just like hers - long, thick and black - with graceful little curls on the ends. My point is that Ivy is right - the hair on top wicks away the wet while the hair beneath stays dry, just like Melian's. Or a horse's. Take your pick, it's a never mind to me."

Tucking his hands into his long sleeves, Elrond gritted his teeth and gave a long-suffering sigh. "Glorfindel, I believe you and I should locate Haldir and ascertain if anything has happened in our short absence. Legolas, would you mind--"

"Seeing Ivy safely upstairs? I would be honored."

Without a further word to any of them, Elrond turned on his heel and left the kitchen.

"Forgive me for asking," said Legolas to Glorfindel, "but are you disinclined to follow in Elrond's wake like an obedient gosling when he makes exits like that?"

"Not at all. I'm pleased that I managed to irritate him so much that he felt the need to leave the room in a marked manner." Squeezing Legolas' shoulder, Glorfindel headed for the door.

The swinging kitchen door hadn't stopped swinging behind the two Elven lords before Ivy perched on the edge of the kitchen table and gave an insolent smile. "You'd be honored to escort me upstairs? Do I detect some sarcasm in Adar's request, not to mention in your reply?

Legolas looked at her blankly. "Why wouldn't Elrond ask me to see you safe?"

"After the territorial display you two put on out in the barn?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Legolas tried his best to look oblivious. "Perhaps you would like to warm yourself before the fire in the dining hall before we go upstairs?"

Legolas was saved from any further mistruths by Erestor's return. Planting himself before the only exit into the house proper, the Elf raked Legolas with an assessing gaze before offering a fierce scowl.

"How are you doing, youngling?"

"She's the youngling." Legolas pointed at Ivy.

Erestor's pointed gaze only grew more intense.

_I see that nothing has changed with the passage of a half century, _Legolas thought._ Better to answer than to argue the point. Any point._

"I am much better now that the vote is concluded, thank you for asking." Legolas tried to avoid looking like the nervous Elfling he'd just been reduced to.

"And how did you enjoy the bread?" Erestor pursued.

"I...erm..."

The tall, austere Elf crossed his arms. "Let me guess, Little Leaf. You fed two choice slices of my fresh-baked bread to a horse - my stone-ground wheat bread covered with the best honey, no less, which was brought specifically for your pleasure all the way from my Warra beehives. I do think of you, you know."

It was not a question, but a statement that Legolas knew was founded on Erestor's having known Legolas since the moment he had been a half-starved wildling brought from Mirkwood.

Legolas fought to avoid fidgeting beneath that all-seeing gaze. The urge to scuff the toes of his boot against the flagstone floor was almost irresistible. So was the urge to bolt out the back door. _I absolutely refuse to regress to the fearful child I was. Not now, and not in front of Ivy. I have faced orcs and a cave troll, Saruman and a balrog, the paths of the dead and an ocean of uruk-hai. And Eowyn when she insisted I stay for supper._

"Erestor, this is no way for us to greet each other after fifty years." Legolas spread his hands in entreaty. "I have missed you, not just your cooking."

"Be that as it may, Little Leaf, you will--"

"Legolas didn't waste the bread. Really, he didn't." Ivy jumped in to save him. Again.

Legolas felt irritation flare. _She cannot make a habit of this._ _I am supposed to be protecting her._

"It's not his fault," Ivy babbled on, her blue eyes all wide-eyed innocence. "I held the plate too close to one of the stalls, and a filly stole the bread."

She twitched a little, but remained silent under the severe, unsympathetic gaze that had made every Elfling - even bold Elrohir - shiver in his finely made leather boots back in Imladris before blurting out a confession that yes, he had been scavenging the kitchen stores between meals.

_Ivy, it seems, is made of sterner stuff than the average Elfling,_ thought Legolas. _So far, anyway. Come to it, didn't young Aragorn manage to raid the stores and evade Erestor's suspicions once or twice? ONLY once or twice? I am not worth your incurring Erestor's wrath, so do be careful, Ivy._

Gliding away from the door, Erestor loomed over Ivy to deeply intone, "Really?"

Folding her hands primly before her, the girl tilted back her head, the better to continue matching the assessing gaze of the second most intimidating Elf in all of Imladris. Legolas found himself holding his breath in dread or anticipation - he wasn't quite certain which - as to how this confrontation might play out.

"Really," Ivy repeated with conviction. "It was that pretty little chestnut about halfway down the aisle. I never saw her coming."

Ivy didn't so much as blink, and Legolas prayed she didn't twitch again, either.

"I am sorry to have been so careless." She was all sincerity. "Is there any bread left?"

Erestor gave the girl a long, baleful glance that was worthy of Sir Philip Sydney's legendary catoblepas before hmphing and finally turning away. "There's more bread under that cloth and honey in the ceramic pot on the stove, but yourself will have to serve himself. I've the dining hall to clean and supper to prepare for you lot."

And then he was gone.

"Yes, my lord inquisitor," Ivy whispered at the kitchen door that swung in Erestor's wake before she swung her attention to Legolas. "That was scary."

Laughing softly, Legolas made his way to the bread and honey.

"Erestor can be." Taking knife in hand, he cut two thick slices of bread. "Hold these."

"I thought you said you weren't hungry."

"Erestor will check the width of his loaf after we've gone upstairs." Drizzling honey over the slice Ivy held, Legolas was careful not to drip any on the stove or the oven. "Rest assured that if I fail to eat the slices he thinks appropriate, Erestor will have no qualms about delivering them to me in the middle of our meeting."

"You're joking."

"Alas, no. He would also stand silently by until I ate what had been brought. Wouldn't that look lovely on our official tapes of the meeting? 'And here's footage of Lee Greenwood the Third and his nanny on Lee's first day with us.'" Legolas took the other slice of bread. "I dare not try to stomach both of these. I'll have this one. You take that one."

"Um, okay."

Checking the teapot on the stove, Legolas set it back with a clank.

"Cold." He wrinkled his nose. "Thank you for your help with Erestor, but I'd advise against repeating it. You were playing a most dangerous game."

"Game? What game?"

"Misleading him regarding the bread. He despises being deceived."

"I didn't mislead or deceive him," Ivy insisted. "The mare did take the bread - or tried to - and it was my fault." She shrugged, then looked up at him, her expression at its most innocent. "It's the simple truth, right? Besides, nobody could have eaten that cold, hard mess once it got to the barn. Erestor doesn't have to know you wouldn't have eaten it anyway."

She licked at the honey sliding down the side of her wrist. "I wouldn't dare lie to Erestor. Elrond may have eyebrows of doom, but Erestor...his eyes burn, and it feels like they'd suck the truth right out of you. You know, I may have to paint a fire-breathing dragon with Erestor-eyes if only to get that glower of his out of my brain."

Legolas offered a grim smile. "I know from long association how those eyes can haunt the guilty."

"Wow, this is good! But we need liquids," Ivy informed him around a mouthful of bread. Opening the refrigerator, she took a can of soda. "Have you always been such a reluctant eater?"

"Only when under undue stress." He eyed the can of Diet Coke in Ivy's hand. "Why do you and Elladan drink that?"

"Because it's good." Taking a sip, she gestured with the can. "You don't know what Diet Coke is?"

"I know it is made by the same people who make Coca-Cola, which my Inuit neighbors sometimes brought home from the Meyers Chuck General Store. I tried it once but found it too sweet. I prefer Scotland's own Irn-Bru."

"The honey lover says Coke is too sweet? Interesting. But I agree with you, for what it's worth. I don't like regular Coke either. But this..." She held up the can as if to toast its very existence. "This, I swear, is the elixir of life. Especially when you're trying to write a term paper at two in the morning or cram for finals."

"The elixir of life?" Legolas frowned. "Isn't that a bit redundant if one is an Elf? Admittedly, until I revealed your Immortal heritage, you did not know you would neither die nor grow old--"

Ivy giggled. "I'm sorry, I was speaking figuratively. As far as I know, the Mortals are still looking for the fountain of youth. Diet Coke is just a another version of Coca-Cola with fake sugar. It's a lot less sweet, and it packs a real kick."

"Kick?"

"It burns." She grinned at his continuing confusion. "The first sip is cold and good, and it burns going down. I don't know why I like that, but it's great. Afterward, you feel it hit your bloodstream."

"So it is similar to our uisge-beatha?" He continued off of Ivy's blank nod. "Uisge-beatha is Scots Gaelic for the water of life - whisky. Your Diet Coke is alcoholic?"

"Nooooo. Remember dinner in New York? You've seen what happens when I drink anything with alcohol in it. Besides, as disapproving as Adar is when I try drinking Diet Coke at breakfast, I don't think he'd let me have it at all if it were alcoholic." Ivy hesitated. "Look, liking it isn't something I can explain, so why don't you simply try some?"

She handed over the can, and Legolas gingerly took it as the fragile aluminum bent under his grasp.

"Oh, come on," she teased when he hesitated. "You know it can't be nearly as bad as whatever Gimli used to drink, and you survived that."

"How do you know what Gimli drank?"

"You're stalling. Drink up or give it back."

Shrugging, he did as she suggested. Taking a long pull, Legolas closed his eyes and swallowed hard as he felt the burn going all the way down into his empty stomach. _That, I presume, is the kick?_

He presumed wrong. Five seconds later, he was slammed with an awareness like no other Legolas had ever felt before. Uncurling from his belly, it streaked like lightning up to his brain. He felt blessed - no, he felt _exhilarated_ - with an instantaneous, searing energy that extended to every limb and made his fingers tingle. As did the tips of his ears. And then, Legolas suddenly found he had the clear, crisp vision he'd hitherto experienced only before and during battle.

Hoping to repeat the searing sensation, he took another, much longer pull.

"Hey, Mikey? I think he likes it," Ivy murmured.

"I do like it. Even though I have no idea who Mikey is." He offered Ivy the can. "You asked me to return this?"

"After you've already drained half of it? No, you keep that one. I'll get another from the trolley upstairs." She gave him a shy look. "You do like it, then? Honestly?"

"It's lovely."

And it was, this almost manic feeling that he had more than enough focus and energy to do anything, take on anything, anyone might throw at him. _Juliens of the world, beware!_

Legolas' heart was pounding happily in his chest, and all of the clouds had dissolved from his mind. Everything was perfectly clear and ultimately simple. With only two sips of Diet Coke, Legolas' world had finally righted itself and he felt much closer to the strong, confident Elf he had been before meeting Isabel Hamilton. And it was all thanks to the little silver and red can in his hand. _Why didn't anyone tell me how wonderful Diet Coke is ?_

With alacrity, he finished his bread and the can of Coke. And then, boldly sliding a hand about Ivy's waist as she stood watching him with what seemed great amusement, Legolas gestured toward the door.

"Shall we?"

"I think we should," she agreed. "We've seen what happens when you're late."


	29. Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

Ushering Ivy through the kitchen door, Legolas wondered how he had failed to notice until now just how nice the new Queen's Daughter smelled. She was also a lovely little thing, especially when she smiled at him. _There have been so few smiles for me for so long. The one from the very odd shopkeep in Meyers Chuck does not count._

Moving down the hall, Legolas reflected on how good it had felt to hold Ivy so close and for such a long time in the stable. It wasn't only because he hadn't held an elleth in over fifty years, or because he knew she had actually been warmed by his efforts, but also because Ivy herself seemed to be warming to Legolas in ways Isabel never had.

_She obviously trusts me and seems comfortable with me,_ he reflected._ She even seems to enjoy talking with me - a situation in my life that seems almost as rare as the smiles have been._

_Might she accept my friendship as Isabel never could?_ he wondered_. She has already been instrumental in saving my people, my home, and Greenwood itself. I have not yet told her how grateful I am for that, and I must._

Yes, the Diet Coke made everything plain. It was good to be able to think clearly again, for Legolas felt as if he had been too long in the fog of weariness, both of body and soul.

He all but tucked Ivy beneath his shoulder while his fingers rested at the small of her back, the better to guide her down the hallway, and he found himself disinclined to hurry her along. Instead, Leglolas allowed himself to savor the simple, intimate way her long, soft auburn hair stroked the back of his hand.

_Lovely child of Aragorn, if you still enjoy my company by the end of this chaotic week, I think we may be friends._

Right there and right then, Legolas decided it might be acceptable were he to companion Ivy over the next few days._ In the time we have left to share before she leaves for Warra, might she come to welcome me in her life not only as a protector, but as a friend?_

_Her grandmother did not,_ Legolas' conscience and a craw full of bad memories intruded. _Ultimately, Isabel __would__ not, remember?_

Legolas pushed away those thoughts, wanting instead to focus on the new possibilities contained in the newest Queen's Daughter.

_Isabel Hamilton is dead by her own actions, if not by her own choosing, _he thought_. Ivy radiates life. I have gained nothing by hiding in the past and replaying dark memories. There is life now, in this bright young Queen's Daughter at my side. Is it not best to focus on the hope and new future she offers?_

The bad memories laughed at Legolas, while Isabel's disparaging voice and scornful features floated forward in his mind. She continued prickling him regardless his newest and most fragile of hopes that were buoyed by whatever mystical formula the makers of Coca-Cola had bundled into their wondrously restorative drink.

_It is one thing for Queen's Daughter to let you keep her warm in a freezing stable, _said the wreck of his memories. _Even Isabel accepted your saving her life once or twice._

Legolas snarled at the memory. _She accepted my help with ill grace._

_She did,_ agreed his wrecked memory. _Which is why you'll admit now that it was one thing for the former Queen's Daughter to grudgingly accept the help you promised to offer her line, and quite another for you to imagine this new Queen's Daughter might welcome whatever pathetic overtures of friendship you might think of offering. You should dare hope for nothing behind duty. Not now, not ever._

_And why not?_

_You have a history of being too intense,_ his memories pointed out_. Isabel clearly told you so. Repeatedly, did she not?_

_I am well aware of my shortcomings in that department._ _If Ivy rejects my overtures, I will take the hint, as they say, and continue protecting her. Even from myself. It has just been so long that anyone seemed to like me as she does. I must try--_

A hand snaked out from the ballroom's darkened doorway as Legolas and Ivy passed by. Strange fingers closed on the Elf's arm, trying to snatch him off balance and into the room.

Halting, he struck away the hand and whirled on the threat to place himself immediately between it and Ivy. Lungeing forward, Legolas grabbed someone by the shoulders and hauled them out into the corridor.

"Sweet Elbereth," hissed the fragile blonde Elf between his hands. She winced as Legolas squeezed her arms a bit too tightly. "Oh, ouch. That's going to leave a mark."

He released her instantly.

"Tamurile." Stepping back beside Ivy, Legolas offered a slight bow by way of apology. "My pardon. I hope I didn't hurt you."

"Of course you didn't." Her smile was as bright as Legolas remembered it, even if she was still rubbing her arms.

"I was anticipating...dreading...someone else," Legolas explained, feeling somewhat foolish. "The meeting is about to begin. Why aren't you upstairs?"

"Because there are things - major things - we need to say to you," Tamurile snuck a look up the corridor. "Only to you, okay? Come on, we don't want company."

Tugging at his sleeve again, she backed into the ballroom and gestured for Legolas to follow.

"We? In the dark?" Wary, he followed the elleth into the shadows beyond the door. Ivy hovered on the threshold behind him, not allowing so much as her feet to touch the shadows.

"Maybe they want to tell you about the falling cherubs," she muttered, "though I think I'd rather do that from outside of the room."

"We're leaving that to Haldir," said Tamurile.

Her hands were on him again, stroking his arm and even his chest. Sensing that the Elf was seeking her own personal solace rather than trying to irritate him with her uninvited touch, Legolas tolerated the contact.

_But it's not nearly as welcome as having Ivy's hand on my arm, _he noted.

"This is lovely cashmere, Legolas, where did you get it?"

"Cashmere?" He glanced questioningly at Ivy.

"I think it's one of the sweaters we picked up for you at ?"

"Well, it's exquisite."

Half concerned and half amused, Legolas followed Tamurile further into the shadows. There was no guile about her, and she was just as Legolas remembered her - the same delicate, adorably frantic Elf he'd watched come of age in New York City during the insane twenties. Tamurile had enjoyed an exuberant, impulsive life as a Flapper, and from Glorfindel's imitation of her, Legolas knew she was still probably still enjoying a life of fun and spontaneity in Los Angeles.

Some Elven friends called her Tam, Mortals knew her as Kiki, and Legolas thought the ridiculous nicknames suited her like no other. He knew that she and Isabel had been fast friends, at least until Isabel had forgotten how to 'have a good giggle', as Tam had put it.

_That would be until Isabel went off the emotional deep end. Does Kiki still blame me for the changes in Isabel? _he wondered fleetingly.

He knew there was a time in New York City when Tam had been more than willing to throw Legolas beneath a streetcar for the way Isabel claimed he was treating her. Long months after his arrival in Meyers Chuck, Haldir had forwarded a letter from Tam that began, 'I could have told you she was bonkers if you'd asked.'

Shaking away the memories, Legolas focused his attention on the elleth before him. "Whom is the 'we' who simply have to talk to me?"

Tam gestured behind her, and three figures stepped out of the shadows reluctantly.

_Sindohte, Alasse and Verce,_ Legolas noted. _I should have known it would be all of those whom Julien caught in his trap. These four didn't say a word during the morning session, but they would now end whatever vow of silence they shared? They don't look any more pleased to be here than they did around the conference table this morning. _He braced himself for whatever they might choose to hurl at him_._

"I am willing to listen, but we have very little time before the meeting begins," he cautioned.

"Please, Legolas?" Hugging herself, Tam looked as if she might cry and took a deep breath before meeting his gaze again. "Please, it will only take just a second. We have to say this now. Not afters, okay?"

"Very well," he relented. "But briefly, as we are already in danger of being late."

Sindohte stepped forward. To Legolas, she looked exactly as she always had, with the tall, thin body of the prima ballerina she had been for decades. Her black hair was pulled back severely from her perfect, cold features, and the haughty Elf went first to Ivy, who still seemed unwilling to actually step into the ballroom.

"I am grateful to you, new Queen's Daughter, for having the courage to stand up to Julien and prevent him from taking possession of all we have worked so long to build."

"No problem." Smiling tightly, Ivy kept sneaking glances upward.

_Does she fear bats?_ Legolas wondered.

Sindohte turned to Legolas. "I am sure Lords Elrond and Glorfindel relayed the events that led up to our voting against you. I cannot speak for the others, but it is my hope that one day you may find it in your heart to forgive me for my betrayal."

Legolas wanted to ease the elleth's emotional pain, but past emotional wounds and the anger still burning from the morning's events prevented him from offering forgiveness in that moment. Instead, he laid his hand over his heart and silently offered a formal nod of thanks. It seemed to satisfy Sindohte, who stepped back into the shadows to allow quiet, unassuming Alasse to sidle up before Legolas.

Bravely trying to meet his gaze and failing, Alasse wept quietly. Pale, fragile and sensitive in the extreme, Legolas knew her as the most vulnerable of the four ellith serving on Greenwood's board. Her tears seemed to put out some of the fire raging in his heart, and compassion rose to take its place.

Taking her gently by the shoulders, Legolas murmured, "Alasse...were you the first to reveal things beneath the Elven lords' insistent questioning?"

Sobbing harder, she slid her arms around him and clung.

"Goheno anim," she managed. _Forgive me._

Legolas couldn't help but remember how willing she was to accompany him when Lee Greenwood the Second had to position himself in American society and tour the east coast in the Forties. Quietly regal and ethereal, as Marina Palermo she had been the perfect public companion. Calm and elegant, she had deferred to him in all things, the ultimate gentle lady of society.

"We've made terrible mistakes and turned ourselves into wretched thieves." She spoke the Sindarin into his sweater, so quietly that even Legolas had to strain to hear the words through her tears. "I'm afraid you'll never forgive us. Never trust us again."

"Nothing's as bad as all that," he told her in the same language. "Haldir and the others have worked hard this day to make everything new again."

She looked up at him with tears streaking her cheeks. "Do you really mean that?"

"Did you want to vote for me earlier today?" he asked softly. Sobs stole Alasse's voice, but she nodded vigorously. "Then the rest is merely bookkeeping," said Legolas, "and of no importance."

His reassurance did nothing to lessen the storm inside her. Tamurile, who had been circling both of them to blatantly listen in, slipped closer to hug Alasse.

"Give over a moment, Legolas?"

Sighing, Alasse draped herself over the latest port in her storm. "He doesn't hate us after all. And it's such a relief to have everything finally out in the open."

"So you're, like, crying because you're relieved? Oh, that makes total sense." Tam gave her friend a little shake. "Cry on me. Cashmere isn't made for it."

Glancing sidelong at Ivy, Legolas met her rueful gaze and matched her thin smile as if to say, _Yes, we are trapped here as long as the floor show lasts. What else can I do?_

Alasse sobbed even harder. "We hurt Legolas, and so very nearly hurt all of Greenwood. I never expected to be in the middle of this sort of intrigue, and I hate it, Tam. Absolutely hate it. It all sounded so simple when we started out...."

Sidling away to join Ivy at the door, Legolas murmured to her beneath Tam's ongoing proclamations of reassurance.

"Gentle Alasse has spent a great many decades preserving her archive of Mortal folklore. She directs a small museum in Manhattan for just that purpose, and has tolerated Julien's sneers as to its value for years."

"Why does he sneer at her?" Ivy whispered back.

"Because Alasse believes Mortal folklore and archetypes have value and deserve to be preserved. She's always gotten on with everyone, Mortals as well as Elves. Until this debacle, I've never seen her as anything but calm and serene."

Tamurile stroked her friend's hair. "Julien messed with all our heads, but he hit Alasse the hardest. I think she may have had the most to lose in our investments gone so foul. She also thinks it's all her fault, which it's not."

Coming back into the light, Sindohte crossed her arms and looked down her very long nose at Alasse's emotional display. "Do pull yourself together, child. Elrond is waiting, and we've the afternoon to get through. Julien has behaved like nothing lately but a bad Mortal. What joy it would bring him to see you like this - all splotchy and bloodshot."

That only had the effect of making Alasse cry even harder.

"Don't be mean, Sindohte." Tam hugged her friend. "Alasse wanted to call Elrond months ago - didn't you, pet - after our movie went lead. But the rest of us ixnayed it. Julien offered to be our angel puppy, but now he's morphed himself into a total bitca."

A fourth Elf stepped out of the shadows to stand beside Ivy, who was still hovering on the threshold and taking it all in silently.

"This is a terrible introduction to us, isn't it?" said Verce.

"No! Not at all," Ivy stammered.

"Nonsense. We know we've made total fools of ourselves. All of us deeply regret trusting the little monster, but it won't ever happen again, will it?"

A chorus of heated, determined no's answered that question. Even Alasse voiced a hiccupping no through gritted teeth and a lifted, if trembling, upper lip. She then took the tissues Sindohte produced, seemingly out of thin air, to wipe her eyes and blow her nose.

Tamurile snatched two of the tissues to blot at the wet spot Alasse had left on Legolas' shoulder. Startled, he stepped back, only to offer a wary smile when she apologetically offered the tissue. Taking it, he took over the job himself.

Ivy was still sending nervous glances toward the ceiling, and Legolas looked up himself, but the darkness was too deep to reveal anything.

T_here's no telling what things beyond tissues Ivy thinks they have back there in the shadows,_ he thought. _Come to that, she might be right._

"No one could have foreseen what would happen," said the prima ballerina, offering more tissues to the ring of Elves, regardless no one else needed them. "As Elrond pointed out, we've all learned something."

"What might that be?" Legolas couldn't resist asking.

"Our first lesson is to not get swept along and lose all common sense," proclaimed Verce. "We were quite helpless to deal with Julien ourselves and it shows how desperate we were to even try. Now, it is time to apologize to you and then, I think, it is time to recommit ourselves to Greenwood and move forward."

Turning to Ivy, Verce laid a hand on her arm. "Thanks to your vote, we all have a new beginning."

"But I'm not the only one who voted against Julien," Ivy protested.

"You cast the deciding vote, mellon nín. That is what matters." Verce insisted. "You stared Julien down and did what we all wished we were strong enough to do ourselves. Yes, Ivy. You gave all of us a new beginning."

"Best we not muck it up, either." Tamurile gave Allasse a squeeze.

The tearful elleth squeaked her agreement before giving a final sniffle.

"Best not ask me to invest in future schemes, either," said Verce.

Murmurs of absolute accord met that order, even by Sindohte, whose dream had started the entire thing.

"For the record," Verce continued, "we are all in agreement that you, Legolas, are perfectly suited to run Greenwood, now and forever. There was never any question of that in our minds at any time."

"I don't know about forever, but I thank you for your confidence in my efforts this moment."

"We're ever so grateful that you've retained control of Greenwood," said Tamurile. "So grateful we're not all looking forward to slaving away for Julien's sybaritic pleasure."

Turning to Ivy, she continued, "You do know that Julien Lovell's nineteenth-century hobby was courting and seducing the daughters of the gentry, don't you? He absolutely ruined them."

"Ruined them?" Ivy echoed, clearly at a loss as to what this meant.

"Absolutely. He made any number of them believe he wanted to marry them. Then he took their virginity, gleefully revealed it to their fathers, and laughed when each man - quite predictably and according to the tradition of the time - threw his teenaged daughter out onto the street."

Sindohte nodded agreement. "In polite Victorian society's eyes, the girls were fit for nothing but Whitechapel prostitutes after Julien was done with them."

"And he was proud of it!" Tamurile spat. "Do you know what he said? 'They shouldn't have given the cream to me if they thought I wanted all the milk.' Wendy told us he finished up with, 'They're only Mortal, after all.'"

Leaving her threshold of safety, Ivy moved closer to Legolas. So much closer, he could feel her trembling beside him.

"Legolas?..." she breathed, her attention hard on Tamurile and waiting for whatever other demonic details might be revealed in this clandestine meeting of minds.

Capturing her fingers, Legolas held on tightly. "It's all right. We won't let Julien near you."

"No, we won't," said Tamurile, adamant. "Not so much as a half-pinch near you."

_What does that mean?_ Legolas wondered as Ivy pressed even closer. Once again, he slid his arm around her waist. This time, he did dare tuck her in tight beneath his shoulder.

"We wanted to thank you - both of you - for helping us all escape Julien's clutches, and we wanted to say it before the meeting started again," Tamurile concluded.

"You are most welcome," said Legolas. "It was a simple matter to resolve once you included us in the intrigue. I also find it rather satisfying to thwart Julien in yet another episode of nastiness. And now, I think we had all best get upstairs for the second portion of our meeting."

"Yes, we'd better," said Verce, "else you know Elrond will come looking for us."

Much relieved, three of the ellith tumbled from the room. Darting down the corridor, they all but raced one another for the stairs leading to the floor above. Verce remained behind with Ivy and Legolas to approach at a more dignified pace.

"You have been most courageous and done very well so far," Verce said to Ivy as they climbed. "Elrond can't stop mentioning to me how proud he is of you."

"I only did what my instincts said to do," Ivy protested. "That's what everyone kept telling me to do."

"Many other Queen's Daughters have not had those instincts." Verce favored Ivy with a cool stare at the top of the stairs before sweeping into the library ahead of Ivy and Legolas.

Pausing at the snack trolley, Legolas rejected a container of Irn-Bru in favor of a second can of Diet Coke.

Looking somewhat stunned, Ivy whispered at his elbow. "You know, when Elrond introduced me to Verce this morning, I didn't think she liked me."

Still holding her fingers captive, Legolas pulled her gently against him, the better to converse without being overheard. "You didn't think I liked you when we met, either."

"No, I _knew_ you didn't like me." Her smile was tremulous. "Didn't like having me on the plane, anyway. And I knew you didn't like my family."

"I do now."

She blinked at him. "You...what?"

"I like you. Very much. And there are times when you remind me very much of Aragorn." Legolas indicated the snack trolley as Ivy gawked openly at him. "There are more Diet Coke. Cokes. Which is correct?"

Plucking one from the arrangement, he offered it to Ivy. "Would you like one for yourself this time?"

"Nooooo." She was still staring at him and looked every bit as stunned as she would have, had Legolas hit her over the head with the butt of one of his long, white knives. "That is, not right now."

"That is well." Legolas nodded. "We shall save it for later and share it between us."

Laughing softly, Ivy wrapped her free hand around Legolas' arm and hugged it to her. "Your mood seems to have improved."

"Does it?"

"Yeah. A lot." She was standing so close, he could see the simple joy reflected in her eyes.

_Blue eyes, _he thought, _so full of promise and innocence. As were Aragorn's until the blessed Evenstar, tattered dreams and the two kingdoms turned their expression to tired sadness._

_No matter what happens, Ivy MacLeod, I shall work all of my days to keep that sadness from your gaze,_ he promised silently.

Aloud, he remarked. "It's amazing what mucking up Julien's plans, getting back my own company, receiving four very sincere apologies, and realizing what a joy the newest Queen's Daughter is - not to mention her sharing her Diet Coke with me - has done to improve my mood."

Tightening his hold on Ivy's hand, Legolas led her into the library.


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: Greenwood and I send thanks and Legolas (or Elrond if you prefer) hugs to all those who reviewed. Brief replies, I'm out of computer time tonight and will have to update later.

1. _"Why two kingdoms. He only took over Gondor..." _There were two kingdoms per Tolkien. Google for "High King of Gondor and Arnor".

2. _"I don't want her to leave for Warra! where will Legolas be?" and "I have to wonder, though, since Ivy is planning on going to Warra, how will the two of them handle that separation, since they seem to be getting so close?"_ The story is Ivy and Legolas', but it's not only about them, sooooo... stay tuned. Everyone has their rollercoaster to ride and you readers get to ride along with all of your writers! Heh. (Only remember Greenwood and I write ONLY happy endings.)

3. Diet Coke. Greenwood is the DC fiend, I prefer milk or tea. She assures me DC in the can is far better than any fountain or bottled version. I wonder what Legolas would prefer?

Okay, on to the story. I'm sorry there's no real time to respond to every review. They're all read and if you need a personal reply, please email or post a message to the Yahoo WizardsandElves group. Thankee. Read slowly, as ever.

CHAPTER 30

"You're late!" snapped Julien, sitting slouched in his chair at the end of the table. Ivy noted the weasel had changed clothes and brushed the foliage out of his hair. He pointed dramatically at them, sighting a poisonous glare down his forefinger. "Elden, you will be sending these two out the window as you did me, won't you?"

"They're not late, it's only just gone two," said Haldir, seated in Legolas' old chair beside Glorfindel. A subdued, still red-eyed Alasse was seated next to him. "You see the mantel clock just over there, where the long finger is pointing at twelve while the little finger is--"

"If you want the finger--"

"Thank you, gentlemen," Elrond interrupted, not bothering to look up as he shuffled his papers. "Julien, you made a habit of making us wait and were warned against tardiness prior to your expulsion. Ivy and Lee have not and will not. In point of fact and as Halden pointed out, they are not late."

Sighing dramatically, Julien flung himself back in his chair, making it creak in protest. Legolas offered him a neutral nod as he settled Ivy into her seat beside Elrond. Sliding into Elladan's vacated chair beside her, he busied himself with cracking open his newest can of Diet Coke.

_So he's next to me while Julien's a world away at the end of the table?_ Ivy noted._ Good plan, __I like that. __Wish the table were longer, though._

She shivered as Julien aimed a nasty look in her direction, but as it glided on to include Elrond, Glorfindel and Haldir, Ivy assumed it wasn't anything too personal. Not wanting to risk Julien realizing she was tracking his gaze, Ivy settled her attention on the golden Elf of Gondolin who was seated opposite her. Arching an eyebrow, Glorfindel gestured subtly at Legolas' Diet Coke.

Holding up two fingers, Ivy mouthed, "It's his second one."

Glorfindel widened his eyes only to roll them and shake his head in obvious disapproval.

_He's likely thinking what I'm thinking,_Ivy realized, _that Legolas hasn't really slept or eaten in the past few days, so the caffeine spike will make him act like a wind-up toy on speed. If nothing else, it should be fun to watch.__As long as I __manage to stay out of his frenzied path._

"It's time we began," said Elrond. "Let the record show that Daniel Meyler will not be joining us this afternoon, as he had to return early to Wales. I have been authorized to vote on behalf of him and his brother, David Meyler. Lee, would you like to say a few words regarding the direction Greenwood will take in the next few months?"

"Of course. I plan to famliarize myself with the new technology Julien mentioned earlier today and ascertain if any of it poses an actual threat to us. I will also evaluate our financial situation and--"

"No, that's immaterial at this point. Not to mention premature."

All heads swiveled to focus on Julien. _And so, the tantrum begins. _Ivy sighed inwardly.

"It is neither, Julien," Elrond informed him icily.

"I demand a revote."

Slowly, regally, Legolas turned to face the upstart at the end of the table. "You what?"

"You heard me," said Julien. "It's clear that Halden miscounted, and I want us all to vote again."

"Here now," said Haldir. "I know how to count to thirteen!"

"It's clear to me that you don't. I was willing to assume it was an honest mistake, this miscount, but perhaps you deliberately altered the recording of the vote? Get your good friend - not to mention your landlord - back in power?"

"Why you little--"

"Peace, Halden." Legolas raised his hand as Alasse cringed against Verce at the Elves' rising anger.

The marchwarden turned his outraged expression on Legolas. "Peace? I don't want peace with him. I want the little bugger to do what anyone else would do - swallow his tiresome hubris and accept defeat...with ill grace, since I know very well he's incapable of doing so with good grace."

"I will not accept defeat because I did not lose!" Julien snarled. "Your reaction only proves to everyone that you quite deliberately miscounted my votes."

"I most certainly did not!"

_Why doesn't Elrond put a stop to this?_ Ivy wondered as Verce took Alasse's hand and began whispering reassurances. _A__l__asse's going to __shatter __if this keeps up much longer._ Squirming in her chair, Ivy looked at the Elf-lord and gave the quietest of whimpers.

Never shifting his focus from the combatants, Elrond murmured ever so softly, "Wait, daughter."

"It's a small enough thing Julien is asking," Legolas said smoothly. "Why not vote again?"

Ivy whipped her head around to stare at the Mirkwood Elf, who was settling back comfortably in his chair with a blatant insouciance that rivaled Julien's. Gone was the gloomy, half-beaten creature of the morning. In its place was a confident, smirking warrior who seemed to anticipate whatever was to come. He also finished draining his second can of Diet Coke while Ivy watched.

_Is he mad as well as pumped up on caffeine?_ Ivy thought. _What else __could __explain his wanting to watch while everyone votes against him all over again?__I don't want to see this, but I can't very well cover my eyes._

"Thank you so much, Lee." Julien offered a death's-head grin that was all gritted teeth and narrowed eyes. "It's good to know that you, at least, know the meaning of fair play. Let's vote now."

"Oh, yes, Elrond, let's. We do so love voting, don't we?" Tamurile smiled happily at Julien and nodded encouragement at the others seated at her end of the table.

Alasse and Verce immediately sat up straighter, and it seemed to Ivy that the entire table stopped breathing. She knew she did. Elrond actually looked startled, though it was very fleeting.

"Very well, we shall have a revote," said the Elf-lord. "I trust a show of hands will suffice this time? There is no need to take time going one by one. All those in favor of Julien Lovell becoming chief executive officer of Greenwood Limited, please raise you hands."

Two hands went up. _That's...only Julien and Wendy?_

"I count two votes in favor of Julien." Elrond sounded bored. "All those in favor of Lee Greenwood the Third being retained as chief executive officer of Greenwood Limited, please raise your hands now."

A plethora of hands reached for the sky, while Tamurile leaned against the table and stretched her lily-white fingers as high as they would go.

"I vote for Lee!" Wiggling her fingers back and forth, Tamurile began swaying as though she were in a football stadium and nearly collided with Sindohte, who leaned away from Tam's enthusiasm while keeping her own hand aloft. The smile Tamurile favored Julien with expanded into a canary-eating grin.

"I count nine in favor of Lee," Elrond stated, "and my proxy votes for David and Daniel are also in favor of Lee. Therefore, let the record show that the second vote was carried two to eleven in favor of our retaining Lee Greenwood the Third as CEO of Greenwood Limited."

Ivy cheered inside as the former Lord of Imladris' gray eyes regarded Julien coldly.

"The second vote you requested is now concluded, and I trust you are satisfied with the results. You had more than ample time to count the votes yourself."

Ignoring Elrond, a bewildered Julien addressed the table at large. "This isn't right, it's not the way it was supposed to happen. Why are all of you voting against me? I thought we were friends."

"Oh, no, we're not friends." Leaning over the table until her chin very nearly touched the surface, Tamurile fogged the wood with her breath and giggled. "You're wicked, tricksey and false, Julien. You don't have any friends."

As if on cue, the four deceived ellith chorused in unison a la Gollum, "Nobody likes you."

Ivy bit her lip to keep from laughing, but Glorfindel roared in delight. And..yes, Ivy was sure Elrond was trying with little success to hide a smile.

Julien pouted and looked pained. "I don't understand."

"What's to understand?" Tamurile pushed on. "You're a mean little boy, and you're a loser. That's _L__-__O__-__S__-__E__-__R--_" Putting thumb and forefinger to her forehead, she sang, "Na na-na naaaaa--"

"You must do it right-handed, remember, dear? Else the L is backward." Verce demonstrated.

"Oh, you're so right. Sorry." Switching hands, Tamurile grinned and began again. "Na na-na naaaa...."

Once more, the four ellith joined in to sing, "Hey, hey, hey, good-bye!"

Julien rose unsteadily to his feet. Gripping the table's edge, he looked from Elf to Elf as the color rose in his face.

_Wow,_ thought Ivy._ I've never seen an Elf go purple before. __Is he going to explode?_

"How the bloody hell could all of you change your votes?" His pupils dilated, his voice lowered to a chilling growl. "Have you forgotten how much you owe me? Have you forgotten what nasty things I rescued you from? Things could still go very wrong without my support," he added in a blatant threat.

"We owe you nothing." Verce's stately tone dripped ice. "You've been paid in full, including interest."

"That's a wretched claim. It's impossible!" The sneer was back in place.

"It is not impossible," said Sindohte. "Halden wrote the check at luncheon, and Wendy signed receipts for all of us."

"Wendy did _what_?" shrieked Julien. He whipped his head to the left and stared in disbelief at his sister.

Wendy winced. "I've asked you not to shriek like that, it hurts my ears."

"I'll bloody hurt your ears if I want to! Why in the name of Elbereth did you take a check from Halden, of all people?"

"Because the money was owed you," Wendy said reasonably, "and you've always got me taking payments for you. You were off trying to make yourself look presentable after playing in the snow - and after ruining yet _another_ Armani suit, I might point out. I had to take care of the business for you."

"Not for these four, and certainly not from Greenwood on their behalf!" He flapped ineffectively in the direction of the ellith. "You insolent idiot, you've gone and ruined everything!"

"_I've_ ruined everything? How have I ruined anything? You've never - not once in a hundred fifty years - told me not to accept a cash payment. If you'd let me in on your silly schemes, maybe I'd have known--"

"Didn't you listen to a word I said coming up here in the car?"

"No." Folding her arms, Wendy sniffed and looked away. "I didn't listen because you're such a bore, and you keep talking about the same things, over and over. How you want to rule the world, and how clever you are, and what wonders you're going to do when you get your hands on Greenwood. One can only listen to you for so long, Julien."

Reaching down, Julien wrenched his sister's arm so hard, she spun around on the hard wood chair. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you. There is more to life than a bloody shoe collection and you, sister, are even more stupid than I thought. Everything, absolutely _everything_, depended on those loans._"_

Taking a deep breath, he waved a hand of dismissal in Wendy's direction while she gaped at him and cradled her injured arm. "Never mind. I can fix this. We'll just tear up the check."

"There are receipts, Julien! Elden asked for them, you see. Four of them, made out to Kiki and Marina and--"

"Receipts!" Throwing himself back in his chair, Julien stared up at the ceiling. "Oh, bloody bleeding hell!"

Looking as if she had entirely lost the former genial attitude she'd had toward her brother, Wendy fixed Julien with a look that would have done well on a cobra. "Kiki's right, you're absolutely horrid. You've bruised my arm and stretched my favorite sweater until it's ruined, and you've no reason to yell at me like this - most certainly not in front of my friends - and I have had enough of you."

Leaving her chair, Wendy stalked behind Verce and Alasse. _Where is she going?_ Ivy wondered as Wendy passed Haldir and Glorfindel to approach Elrond at the far end of the table. Sliding a hand up the Elf-lord's arm, Wendy stared up at him beseechingly.

"Elden, I want to change my vote. I'm voting in favor of that clever, well-mannered, _gentlemanly_ Lee Greenwood the Third and against this nasty little upstart, Julien Lovell."

Elrond regarded her solemnly. "The vote has been officially tallied, but I suppose we could make an exception this once and change your vote of record."

"Thank you." Continuing past Elrond, Wendy continued around the table to settle herself gracefully in the empty chair beside Legolas, which Ivy assumed usually held Elrohir, and pointedly turned away from the fuming Julien.

Tamurile leaned past Sindohte to grin at Wendy. "Way to go. And hey, Julien? I think your idea is way cool."

"What idea?" he snapped.

"To tear up that little checkie. Go ahead," she goaded. "It'd be really awesome if you turned out to be so generous. Do it now, okay? I want to watch."

"Very well. Give me your receipts," Julien demanded, holding out his hand.

Tamurile laughed. "Are you nuts? No way am I giving you my receipt, and neither are the other girls. Right, girls? In fact, I'm giving mine to Elr--to Elden for safekeeping."

All four Ellith produced hand-written receipts which were slid, in unison, up the table away from Julien. Wendy helped send them on their way to Elrond, who calmly slipped them off of the table and into an invisible pocket.

_I'd like to watch Julien try to get those away from him,_ thought Ivy.

"Now, Julien," Tamurile pressed. "About that shredding party?"

"Shut up." Leaning forward, Julien pointed and sighted down his finger at Ivy, who jumped to suddenly be the focus of those cold, heartless eyes. "You know, it just occurred to me that this is all your fault. You're right, Ivy MacLeod, you're nothing like your mother."

"Julien," said Elrond, sounding twice as dangerous as he had in the hallway the night before. "That's enough."

"You're a hateful cow," Julien steamrollered on. "If it weren't for your stupidity and pigheadedness and refusal to vote for me, I'd have won hours ago, and Greenwood would be entering a new era. Instead, we're stuck with _that_--" Julien shifted slightly to point at Legolas. "An incompetent reject from old Mirkwood who knows more about picking up sticks and making precious wee arrows for obsolete weapons than he does about successfully running an international holding company."

"Wait just a minute." Ivy tried to jump in. "Leg...Lee doesn't deserve--"

"I am not finished, don't you dare interrupt me again!" Julien sprang to his feet. "Queen's Daughter, they call you? That's a joke. I didn't want to believe it, but Marian was right - all you know is how to waste time. You're nothing but an insane, obsessive little art-hag who understands nothing beyond your pretty papers and childish watercolors! You're worthless, Ivy. Utterly _worthless_ as well as naïve and too stupid to accept guidance from your betters."

Ivy wanted nothing more than to answer Julien in kind, but a sob caught in her throat as she heard echoes of her mother's voice in the cruel Elf's words. _Oh, __Ivy, you're __entirely __obsessive about your pretty little painted horses, aren't you__? How hopeless. It's __absolutely __insane how you're studying only __art __and wasting all __that lovely money __the government's given you. _

_Mom complained to Julien about me and my art?_ Determined not to give the mean Elf the satisfaction of seeing her cry over her mother's betrayal, Ivy balled her fingers into fists. Getting to her feet, she was vaguely conscious of Legolas matching her move for move. The energy coiled in the lithe body beside hers promised violence to come, and even as part of Ivy looked forward to seeing it, she knew she wanted first shot at the sociopathic Elf at the end of the table.

_Julien may be able to upset and frighten me, but I__ refuse __to sit her__e__ and cry like some helpless little girl. _Raising her chin, Ivy reached for the leashed fury spiking beneath the hurt. Digging her nails into her palms almost hard enough to draw blood, she willed the pain to dissolve the lump in her throat and give her back her voice. A heavy hand slid across her shoulders, and Ivy suspected it belonged to Elrond as his robes brushed against her side, but she deliberately focused on the hateful, leering Elf at the end of the table.

"Kiki's right, Morno." Her voice was scratchy and came out far tighter than she would have liked, but at least she could be heard, and no tears were threatening to fall. "You're a mean bastard, and you're way out of line."

Elrond withdraw his touch at her first words, and Ivy's knees shook as she realized the Elf-lord was leaving her to defend herself. She would have liked nothing better than to turn and throw herself into the Elf-lord's protective embrace while Legolas dealt with the Elf from hell, but something more than blind instinct was shouting as it never had before that she shouldn't back down against the aberration that was Julien. She couldn't allow anyone else - not even Legolas - fight this particular battle for her.

_It's not just that __I'll__ likely lose the respect of every Elf __here __if I crumple like a wet noodle, _she thought, her head throbbing as adrenaline flooded her veins. _It's that if I don't __defend myself, I think I'll lose all respect for myself. And not only that...I really, __really__ want to hurt Julien for bringing my mother into this. I have __so __had enough of __him._

"We're not here to discuss my pretty papers or my watercolors and the subjects thereof," she continued. "But for the record, little man, I work in _acrylics and oils._"

She paused to savor the naked disbelief Julien was displaying that she would dare contradict him.

"Perhaps you need reminded that this is a board meeting." Her voice gained strength and speed as she let a bit of the rage out. "In any case, stop trying to use me as a scapegoat. Greenwood's board has voted twice on your proposal, and it's been defeated twice. I suggest you shut up, suck it up, and let us get on with the meeting."

"I'm sorry, Ivy, but I don't take orders from hopeless little girls who are barely out of their dirty nappies." Julien's sweet smile would have looked warm on a shark. "You need to run along and play. Elsewhere."

By the time Ivy registered the insult and recognized the low growl at her side, Legolas was gone.

"You _pig_." Shoving back her chair, Ivy meant to follow the warrior-Elf moving toward Julien, only to have Elrond's arm snake around her waist to pull her back against him.

"You need to stay here, daughter." Elrond's voice rumbled against her.

Helpless against the Elf-lord's muscles, she could only clutch at his hands and watch helplessly as Legolas threw aside the chair Julien was trying to use as a last-minute shield. Grabbing the younger Elf around the throat, Legolas lifted him off of the floor. Sputtering half-strangled protests and clawing helplessly at Legolas' fingers, Julien was turning an interesting shade of red.

"Sweet heaven, he's going to kill him," a horrified Ivy whispered.

"Legolas is not going to kill him."

Ivy felt rather than heard the reassurance over the screeching racket Julien was making as Legolas carted him toward the window behind Haldir's desk.

Fascinated, Ivy settled against Elrond and watched as Julien once more was tipped backward out the window. His fingertips squeaked as they slipped off the window frame on the way by.

"You will not speak to Queen's Daughter that way," Legolas growled.

Despite his clawing at anything else within reach, Julian was shoved gracelessly out into the empty air. A muffled thump followed shortly, and Legolas whirled as Julien set up a piteous wailing below.

The warrior-Elf breathed hard as he stood, tense and battle ready. His nostrils flared as he confronted the silent table full of Elves. "Would anyone else care to comment? I'll gladly accommodate the next volunteer."

No one dared move, and even dignified Verce's eyes were wide with alarm. Ever so slowly, Glorfindel turned to regard Ivy and Elrond who stood as motionless and silent as the rest of them.

_So this is the true meaning of dead silence? _Ivy thought. _Why is __Glorfindel __looking at me? __Doesn't he know __how to handle a pissed-off protector-Elf__ who also just happens to be his son__? __Come to that, everybody here has known Legolas __for years, so why involve me at all? __Maybe they don't want to __say anything __for fear they'll be next? Maybe the newbie is expected to throw herself in front of the bus?  
_

"It's okay," Ivy murmured, meeting those fierce blue eyes and wondering if she would be the next one punted out the window for daring to speak to the untamed one. Summoning a thin smile, she continued, "Really, it's okay, Lee. I've been called worse."

_If I could only touch him, I might be able to get through to him,_ she thought. But Elrond didn't release his hold one little bit as Legolas didn't back down.

_He's still looking for something else to fight, _Ivy realized. _It's all that caffeine, I'll bet. And __Glorfindel's still staring at me. _

"Let go a minute," she told Elrond. When he didn't respond, she followed up with, "Trust me, I know what I'm doing." I_ hope I know what I'm doing. _

The moment he relaxed his grip, she lunged for the table to grab the Elf-lord's pen and one of the abandoned binders housing Julien's proposal. Scribbling quickly, she held up what she'd written and gazed hopefully at Legolas.

"Oi?" Glorfindel said quietly. "What's oi?"

Ivy looked at what she'd scribbled.

"Oops." She spun the pad around. "Sorry, I was holding it upside-down. It's not an oi, it's a ten." She looked around the table, only to meet uniformly confused looks. "You know, a perfect ten? Olympic scoring and all that? I'm giving that launch ten points out of ten."

_Help me out here!_ She looked hopefully at Glorfindel, who broke out laughing.

"No, that wasn't a ten," he contradicted. "I've seen better. I've _done_ better, just last year. It was perhaps a nine-point-five, but I think Lee's initial grip on Julien was a bit sloppy. Good distance out, though."

Tamurile giggled, and with that the tension in the room dissolved. Elrond returned to his place, Legolas paced around him to take his seat once more at Ivy's side, and the smile he bestowed on her even seemed to reach his blue eyes.

"Thank you," came the Elvish. Taking a deep breath, Legolas shivered like a great cat and seemed to settle.

"You're welcome," Ivy returned in English, not daring to risk her inferior Sindarin. "You really did rate a ten."

When everyone was once more giving Elrond their full attention and the Elf-lord had returned to the meeting's agenda, Legolas' fingers captured Ivy's beneath the table. Her heart leaped when he seemed contented to continue bracing her hand on his thigh as Elrond held forth.

_'You really did rate a ten...' _Legolas tucked her words away in his heart and spent the rest of the meeting surreptitiously watching the new Queen's Daughter.

_I saw Aragorn in her eyes again this afternoon__,_ he noted_. Her chin is his as well, I think__...__lifted in courage __as he did before confronting the Mouth of Sauron. Terrified, but setting aside his fear to stand against an intimidating, __manipulative enemy. Like Aragorn, __Ivy seems to have __humility enough to __yield before Elrond__. And __before me. _

_Can __she possibly be __so different from Isabel, who wanted to be every Elf's equal, if not their superior? __Does she know that despite Julien's empty insults, she definitely belongs among us? M__ight she actually be at peace in this __castle full of Elves, and with me, as Isabel never was?_

Legolas didn't know, but he had the curiosity and patience to hold Ivy's hand and to let the days pass until he discovered the answers.


	31. Chapter 31

_A/N: Sorry for the delay in updates, chapters 31 and 32 were hard for us to draft for some reason. One thing to note is that Legolas makes reference in chapter 32 to something that happened during his childhood growing up in Rivendell. That something is told in Greenwood's story, "Five Hundred Arrows," which is archived here but unfinished. It's far enough along that, if you read it, you'll understand what Legolas is talking about. If you don't read it, you'll be asking me what he's talking about and I'll say, "Go read 'Five Hundred Arrows.'"_

_100 Legolas hugs to all of you who review - you can't know how much it brightens our day to read what you say._

_Answers to reviewers' questions:_

_Q: "One thing I don't get though...what's with the 10? That just went way over my head...so, an answer to tha question would be nice." ANSWER: Up until recently, Olympic competition was scored 1-10 with 1 being the lowest and 10 being the highest. This story is set in 2004 before the scoring changed to whatever they're using now. Soooo, Ivy was trying to give Legolas the highest score possible for his launch of Julien, while Glorfindel wanted to award a lower score._

_To the generic, "UPDATE SOON!" ANSWER: We update as quickly as we can write. Writing depends on spare time. We won't leave the story unfinished, we are working on it steadily. We know it's taking too long, we feel the same way and so do the little Elves in our imaginations!_

_Q: "Will Celeborn make an appearance? He never sailed West in the book." ANSWER: The appendix to ROTK says that Legolas was the last Elf out of Middle-Earth, but we're ignoring that, so asking about Celeborn is a valid question. I don't think it was specified when the twins left, either? Anyway, if Celeborn appears, it will be very far into the future in the Undying Lands. Greenwood and I did talk about a couple of scenes with him, but we think they've been given to someone else. Celeborn is still Oversea in this AU, so if you're a Celeborn fan, I'm really sorry. :(_

_Q: "Is Julien really Jack the Ripper? You mentioned him living in Victorian times..." ANSWER: There's a running joke with Ripperologists that in the afterlife when TPTB call for the Ripper to stand forth, some insignificant nobody will step forward, and all the Ripperologists will look at one another and say, "Who's that?" But no, Julien isn't/wasn't the Ripper. He's a sleezy Victorian Elf with no morals though, and... oh, wait, we're supposed to tell you through the story, not tell you. My bad. Heh._

_I love how some of you are writing to say, "It feels so real/I wish it were real" and "I wish I could be Ivy." That's just...neat. I think Greenwood and I feel the same way, actually._

_Q: "May you never have writer's block." ANSWER: Trust me, that is not the problem. Finding the time to write is the problem._

_Thanks for reading!_

_

* * *

_

**CHAPTER 31**

"Our next gathering will take place on June twenty-first," said Elrond. "With that, I believe this meeting is concluded."

Chairs scraped back and the bevy of Elves deserted with table with obvious alacrity. All of the ellith - including Wendy - surrounded Legolas and Elrond, and Ivy stepped back hastily as she was in danger of being trapped in the clinch. Abandoning English, they all began chattering at once in such rapid Sindarin that Ivy hadn't a prayer of catching a single word.

The language barrier left her feeling very much the outsider, with the comfortable welcome she'd enjoyed only a few minutes before having dissolved without any warning. Hovering, uncertain, on the fringes of the group, she was relieved when Haldir came to join her.

"They're a noisy lot, aren't they?" Setting a hand to her elbow, he began guiding her away from the fray, only to have Legolas reach through the crowd and wrap his warm fingers around her wrist.

"Don't go far," came the warning.

She found his care pathetically reassuring. _At least he still knows I'm here._

Haldir pursed his lips as Legolas focused once more on the enthusiastic ellith surrounding him. "Honestly, what does he think will befall while you are in my keeping?"

"There aren't any cherubs in here, so I'm sure the warning was meant for me and not for you." Ivy tried to soothe the older Elf's ruffled ego.

Haldir's smile was thin. "I'm equally certain the warning was meant for me, regardless the falling rococo is limited to my receiving room and the ballroom. I gather Legolas doesn't trust me to watch after you." He glanced almost disdainfully at the tight knot of Elves. "You may want to heed his advice, as you are still very much in his keeping and obviously on his mind."

Haldir fell silent, evidently trying to gather his self-esteem. _Or think of something else to say, because I haven't a clue? _thought Ivy.

The marchwarden managed to summon a somewhat warmer smile. "And so you have survived your first board meeting with all its strangeness and hostility. How are you faring?"

Ivy hesitated. _There are so many ways I could answer that question._ "You know that Elrond and Legolas have been making sure Julien doesn't eat me alive?"

"Glorfindel mentioned something to that effect." Haldir gave a deep, long-suffering sigh. "I am so sorry not to have warned you about the plans of our resident sociopath, but Legolas insisted we should let you find your own way. Unfortunately, while the nasty meeting may be over, we're snowed in."

Ivy nodded. The depth of the snow was no surprise, and Ivy suspected it happened every year since her mother had not always made it home in time for Christmas. _But she always came back in a good mood._

"How big of a problem is it to have houseguests for a few extra days?" she asked.

"It's not a problem to feed and care for everyone. The problem lies in...well, diabolical surprises may be in store for all of us, compliments of Julien, unless the little tick has frozen to death in the gorse bushes below. He is never an enjoyable guest."

"Oh, him. Right." Ivy followed Haldir's glance at the mulled windows where the half-light of the afternoon had faded into gloomy shadow. "It's gotten dark so fast. Is another storm on the way?"

Haldir waved a hand in dismissal. "No, it's merely our Scottish winter. The days are short with sunset coming in the mid-afternoon. Our days will be much longer when you arrive next summer, with the sun rising at four in the morning and not setting until ten."

"At..._night?_" Ivy said, incredulous.

"At night," Haldir confirmed.

Wandering out of the library, he surveyed the ruin of the snack cart. The group within the room was still chattering at high speed, so Ivy followed the marchwarden and watched him pick through the items languishing on the trolley.

"How very disappointing. I was certain everyone would eat more shortbread at the break."

"What happens next?" she asked.

"Erestor will not be happy." Haldir sounded preoccupied.

"No, I mean...what happens now that the meeting is over?"

"Ah, my pardon. Now, everyone will amuse themselves until supper, which I have been assured will be ready at six."

_Great, _she thought. _What should I do in the meantime? No one needs to keep amusing the kid in their midst, and it doesn't look like any of the usual bodyguards are available. Maybe a nap?_ She brightened at the possibility. _I like that idea. It wouldn't bother anybody, and I could sneak back into my room and use a little time to get my head to stop spinning._

She was jarred out of her musings by the front door slamming downstairs with such violent finality that she looked at the surrounding walls to see if they had developed cracks. A cold draft shot up the stairway to engulf her, and Ivy shivered as the unheated hallway became positively arctic. Heavy feet tromped slowly up the stairs, accompanied by fierce-muttered profanities that grew louder as the seconds passed. Ivy knew all too well who was approaching, for all that she couldn't see him yet.

"Haldir?" Receiving no response to her whisper, Ivy was horrified to discover the marchwarden was no longer by her side. _He left me? _A quick glance around showed she was very much on her own and about to be alone with the one person she wanted very much to keep his distance.

Her heartbeat sped up as the top of Julien's head appeared over the stairwell. Bits of gorse and melting snow once again adorned his hair, and his muttering contained words that Ivy had never dreamed any Elf would use. Even at this distance his fury was palpable, and Ivy's breath caught as she realized that, for all of Legolas and Elrond's repeated assurances, she was once again alone with the explosive Elf.

_He hasn't seen me yet,_ she realized_. There may still be time...._

She sidled toward the library door, hoping to reach it before Julien cleared the stairs, but he must have sensed or heard the movement, for his head came up and he locked his venomous, unblinking gaze on her. Frozen in place, she found herself unable to breathe under that gaze.

_He has eyes like a shark,_ she thought_. They're--they're black. And so cold._

Never before had she felt so much like prey, and in that moment she realized why Legolas had warned her to stay close. She wasn't anywhere near close enough to him, and her need reach him was suddenly critical.

She knew she needed to bolt for the safety offered by the other Elves who were only a few feet away inside Haldir's safe, warm, insulated library, but Julien's unblinking stare was so terrifying that she couldn't make her feet move. She could barely inhale, definitely couldn't think clearly, and her heart contracted painfully in her chest before leaping into high gear to pound violently against her sternum.

Julien's cold stare never wavered, and the malice he projected was even more intense. Ivy had never felt so afraid, regardless the Elf wasn't doing anything but look at her. He'd stopped muttering the moment he'd seen her, but she had the feeling that something even more terrible was waiting behind his silence.

His angry footfalls gave way to an unearthly, hushed grace as he glided up the few remaining steps. Still and smooth and somehow reptilian, he seemed to fill her mind as well as her vision. He didn't reach for her, didn't touch her at all, but she still felt utterly trapped.

"And there she is," he purred in a voice pitched for her ears only, while his eyes with their huge black pupils looked as if he wanted to devour her. "It's not over yet, little girl. We're going to have a pretty dance later, you and me."

His tone made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

"Leg...Legolas--"

"What's that?" he cooed, dramatically cupping one hand around his cold-reddened, pointed ear. "I can't hear you. More importantly, _he _can't hear you." Julien stepped so close, Ivy could feel his hot breath on her cheek. "Poor little lamb, so anxious and alone. Where is your sainted protector now?"

Giving an insolent smile, he went to touch her face.

_The hell you will! _The thought of that hand touching her skin made her stomach spasm. She jerked backward as Julien stepped closer, only to find she had nowhere to go as the door frame jammed hard against her spine. _Oh, crap._

She felt the chill air moving on her left and then, suddenly, she could no longer see Julien. It took a moment before she realized she hadn't gone blind, that the problem was a very large back was now obstructing her view. She knew those broad shoulders and the long black hair fanned so beautifully across them. That hair was still swinging from the sudden motion.

"Ada?" she croaked. Reaching up, she laid her hand against his back and discovered the muscles under her fingers were rigid and trembling with what might have been rage.

Elrond didn't move, so Ivy warily inched around him to see that he was entirely focused on Julien, who wasn't nearly as close now as he had been.

The Lord of Imladris wasn't alone - a seething Legolas and a tense Glorfindel stood battle-ready on either side of Julien, and it seemed to Ivy that all three held the younger Elf at bay by the sheer force of their presence. Unless Julien chose to leap over the balustrade at his back, the half-circle they presented had him effectively cornered.

"Once again, I find myself asking what you are doing, Julien." The Elf-lord's cold voice held little patience.

"I was doing nothing - absolutely nothing - after managing to drag myself out of your prickly, wet vegetation. I was on my way to my room to change. Again. Now...move."

"What were you doing to Queen's Daughter?" demanded Legolas.

"I told you, absolutely nothing." Looking from Elf to Elf, Julien was trying hard to look as innocent as he sounded. "I never touched her, I wasn't even near her. Over-reactive lot, all of you. Your precious little girl is just fine."

Legolas spared Ivy a quick glance, and from the way his blue eyes hardened, she knew she had to look as shaken as she still felt. A hand on her shoulder made her leap sideways as if she were being attacked.

"It's all right, dear, you're not alone." Rubbing Ivy's shoulder, Verce urged her back beside Elrond. "We're all here with you."

"Even me," said Wendy, "because Julien? Le tûg nach."

_You're a fool. _Ivy's mind mechanically provided the translation, courtesy of the Sindarin she and Dan had played with six years ago. It was reassuring to have the ellith standing behind her, and the intellectual part of her agreed with Wendy's assessment of Julien and added a great deal beyond it as well. But what Ivy wanted to more than verbal reassurances was to wrap her arms around the broad Elf-lord standing beside her and cling like a panicking child. Her heart was pounding so loudly, she could feel its pulse in her ears. If she couldn't hide against Elrond, her second choice would have been to run away.

_I'm reacting like this because Julien __looked__ at me?_ she questioned herself. _He said mean things to me in front of the others during the board meeting, so why does it feel so much worse now?_

"--will apologize to Queen's Daughter."

Legolas' brusque demand cut into Ivy's scattered thoughts, and she realized belatedly that her musings had made her miss part of the ongoing argument.

_No, forget the apology,_ she silently begged. _Just make him go away!_

"Apologize for what?" Julien spat. "Using the same staircase? I know you've become fond of the infant, but your behavior is bordering on the ridiculous. I'm an invited guest. I've every right to move about this place."

"Apologize."

"_I_ am the one owed the apology," said Julien, "for I'm the one who's been threatened and ignored, mistreated and physically assaulted - all because of that brat. _I _am a board member with seniority and experience and rights, all of which have been ignored because you want to play with your new girl-toy. If anyone deserves an apology, it's me from all of you, including from that rude, disruptive little bitch-pet of yours!"

Legolas lunged at Julien without warning, and Glorfindel grabbed a handful of his son's sweater. Leaning close as Legolas momentarily halted, the older Elf murmured something in Gondolic. Legolas' reply in the same language was sharp and clipped, and he never took his eyes off of Julien.

"I've _told_ you not to speak in tongues around me!" Julien's voice grew shrill. "Tell me what you just said."

"I beg your pardon, Master Lovell, but you might not like what you hear." Glorfindel sounded as if he were addressing a child.

"Tell me now."

"Very well." The golden Elf's expression hardened. Between one second and the next, the easy-going Elf Ivy had met was gone as if he had never existed. In his place stood a great and terrible war-leader whose presence and power Julien hadn't the good sense to respect or fear. "I asked if I should provide my son with a weapon to kill you. His answer...."

"I need no weapon," Legolas growled. "I _am_ the weapon."

Glorfindel nodded as Julien's horrified gaze swung back to him.

"Yes, that's what he said," the golden Elf confirmed with none of his usual good humor. It was a merely a chilling statement of fact.

_My god, Julien is going to die. Right here, right now._ Ivy's heart faltered. _The only question is which one of them - father or son - is going to do the deed._

_Oh, please don't do that - just make him go away!_

"One mind, any weapon," Glorfindel clarified. "That's what I taught him, after all."

"That's a load of bollocks!" said Julien.

"Indeed?" Arching an eyebrow, Glorfindel cocked his head and regarded the London Elf with an ominous calm. "Shall we put it to the test? Find out here and now?"

Legolas shifted his weight forward. Julien flinched.

Glorfindel was still not smiling. "I suggest you do as my son has requested and apologize to Ivy. Now. Or I let go."

Julien threw his hands up. "Fine! I apologize for walking past the little bi--your little darling. I apologize for breathing the same air as she does. I apologize if Miss Ivy isn't completely and utterly delighted with her circumstances this minute!"

Wrenching free of Glorfindel's grip, Legolas stretched the cashmere almost to the point of destruction.

"Don't hurt the sweater, _please _don't hurt the sweater," Tamurile chanted quietly behind Ivy. "Oh, I think you've _ruined_ it!"

Stalking forward, Legolas backhanded Julien. Spinning with the force of the blow, the younger Elf careened into the balustrade. Grabbing instinctively at the railing, he saved himself from going over, only to cover his face with his hands as blood streamed onto the wood.

"You've broken my face!" Julien screamed. "My nose is in pieces!"

Ivy stared at the blood, unable to look away. _Broken face, broken nose...does it matter? Oh look, he's bleeding on the carpet now. Haldir won't be happy._

Whirling, Julien backed down the length of the hallway balcony as Legolas continued advancing. "I've done nothing to deserve this, you rotter! What the bloody hell is your problem?"

"Apology not accepted." Legolas continued stalking his quarry.

Elrond left Ivy's side to glide alongside Legolas. "We know all too well what would have transpired out here, had we not intercepted you."

"You're mad too!" howled Julien, dabbing at his swelling nose.

"Deny it all you like," said Elrond, "but we know."

_What does he think would have happened to me? _Ivy wondered, only to stop her frantic mind from imagining the worst of possibilities.

"You will go to your room," Elrond ordered, "and there you will stay until you are summoned."

Fetching up against the wall at the end of the balcony, Julien laughed hysterically. "You're all besotted with her, aren't you? Or is it the violence you love? The power you so love to display and abuse? Yes, the great and terrible Lord of Imladris is giving orders as if he's the ruler of all he surveys, no matter his kingdom is nothing now but a barren coal pit.

"And Lord Legolas is back, isn't he? The sainted, backward Son of Glorfindel and the House of the Golden Flower, one of the Nine Walkers, Lord of Ithilien and Lairg, blah blah blah...it means nothing. None of it. You lot are ancient, outdated nobodies addicted to forcing their will on others.

"Well, I've got news for you! It's the modern world, not the Third Age, and I have equal rights here. I can come and go as I please, just like any other board member. You are not sending me to my room like some stupid child."

Moving faster than Ivy's eye could see, Legolas stepped up to Julien. Rather than snapping Julien's neck - which is what Ivy feared would come next - he laid one hand across the younger Elf's shoulder and pressed his thumb into his collarbone. It seemed a gentle gesture, nothing violent about it at all, but in the next moment Julien grimaced and howled and began folding in on himself.

"Ouch! That's not...you're hurting me again!" He grabbed Legolas' wrist with both bloody hands to try prying him loose. When that didn't work, Julien attempted to jerk away, which didn't work either. "You are totally insane! Violent and flat-out barking mad. You've no right to hurt me like this!"

Legolas tightened his grip, and Julien's knees began buckling. "You will yield."

Head bowed, with his nose still dripping blood, Julien gasped and panted and dropped to his knees before Legolas. His hands fell to his sides in capitulation before Legolas released his grip. Tilting his head, Julien looked hard at the Mirkwood Elf, and Ivy had to look away from the hatred she saw shining in his eyes. _That's how he looked at me...before._

"This is my domain," said Legolas. "I am the Laird of Lairg and Lord of Ithilien, and what I decree here will be done, especially when it comes to protecting Queen's Daughter. You _will_ go to your room."

Blue eyes locked into Julien's dark glare, and it seemed to Ivy that the moment stretched into eternity before Julien yielded the fight.

_Finally._ Ivy dared breathe a slow sigh of relief.

Glancing down, Julien coughed and swiped at his nose.

"Bugger off," he muttered, his tone more resentful rather than combative.

"Sounds like a good idea to me." Stepping forward, Glorfindel heaved a wary, uncooperative Julien back onto his feet. Towering over the younger Elf and standing very nearly on his toes, Glorfindel patted Julien's cheek and smiled when he winced. "Did that hurt? I suggest you take your own advice and bugger off to your room. Now."

With blood smeared across his cheeks and chin, and still dripping to further ruin of his expensive suit, Julien stood weaving on his feet and looked as if he couldn't decide whether to yield or strike out. His hate-filled, black glare was firmly fixed on Glorfindel, but the golden Elf smiled in response, almost seemed to encourage it.

"Do you want to stay and play some more?" Glorfindel asked conversationally.

Coming up beside the older Elf, Elrond's large frame entirely dwarfed Julien.

"Run," Elrond suggested. "Now."

Julien's show of bravado crumbled, and fear filled his eyes. He couldn't resist shooting a venomous parting glare at all of them before shoving inside his bedroom and slamming the door, but it seemed to Ivy that his gaze lingered on her.

_Oh, Mom, there's something very wrong with that Elf, so why didn't you warn me about him? And as Julien just showed me, there's no way Legolas can protect me every second. _Ivy trembled at the thought that the tantrums and threats might never end, not even after she had left Scotland.

Staring at the bloodstains Julien had left behind, she wondered, _Are scenes like this why you tried to warn me that Elves are really dangerous?_


	32. Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

Legolas took little pleasure in their joint victory over Julien, for Haldir and others had warned that such triumphs were always brief.

_Julien's parents were much easier to deal with, _he reflected_. Is his insolence a matter of faded Elven genetics, or could it be the result of an indifferent upbringing? I know that in a nineteenth-century world Julien could buy destitute children at the back door of a workhouse for only a few coppers, and do whatever he wished with them. Is that still carrying over to today?_

"Well done," said Glorfindel.

Legolas shook his head. "I think not. You know he never gives up."

"He will give this up," Elrond said, "for I shall sedate him at least until suppertime."

Glorfindel brightened at once. "Now there's a happy thought. Wendy, might you be willing to carry a soothing cuppa to your brother?"

"My dear, arrogant Julien drowning his upsets with mere tea?" Wendy looked down her elegant nose in mock disgust. "Nooo, my brother requires expensive spirits more appropriate to his station in life. A fine cognac would be more acceptable than any plebian cup of tea. And I'd be absolutely ecstatic to give it to him," she added with a wicked grin.

"Very well, spiked cognac it is." Glorfindel nodded his satisfaction. "Haldir, if you'd be so kind as to prepare the required snifter?"

"It would be a pleasure."

"And Elrond, might we trouble you for a few drops from the herbal tinctures in your medicinal carry-case?"

Making no answer, Elrond stared down the hallway Julien had recently vacated. He fairly vibrated with the same sort of barely contained rage that Legolas had first encountered after the Valar had required that he commit one particular, unforgivable transgression as a young Elf living in Imladris.

"Elrond, you did suggest it," Glorfindel reminded him. "Are you having second thoughts?"

Ignoring the older Elf's question, Elrond turned abruptly and headed, not toward the stairs to retrieve the needed sedative, but to Ivy. Grasping her by the shoulders, he shook her slightly.

"What did Julien do to you?"

Regardless he was sworn to protect Queen's Daughter, Legolas was helpless to do anything but watch as Ivy cringed and tried to pull away from the Elf-lord she had accepted as her closest guardian only hours before. Seeing her panic, Legolas was reminded of a time, millennia before, when he had done the same. _Does Elrond still not know how deeply his wrath can affect another?_

"Adar--" she gasped. Her face paled and her eyes grew wide and frightened.

The grey eyes boring into Ivy's held fierce judgment without compassion. Rather than ease his hold on her, Elrond seemed to tighten his fingers even more. "I am not angry with you, daughter."

_You say one thing, while your touch and attitude tell her something quite different._ Legolas took a step forward, intent on freeing his latest victim.

"Tell me what Julien did," demanded Elrond.

Ivy looked fragile enough to shatter between the Elf-lord's large hands. "He...he didn't do anything. Ada, please...."

"You _must_ tell me how he hurt you."

"_You're_ hurting me now!" Frantic, she twisted away from Elrond as Legolas stepped up beside her.

The Elf-lord let her go, his hands still hovering before him as though she remained between them. Looking stricken, he reached for Ivy again, only to have her wrap her arms around herself and step away from him. Her blue eyes were huge and anxious, and Legolas saw that she was shaking.

_Because this old house is cold,_ he wondered,_ or because she is that frightened of him?_

Staring down at his new daughter, Elrond drew a shaky breath and visibly tried to tamp down his emotions. "Ivy...my child...forgive me. Truly, I am not angry with you."

Shaking her head, she rubbed her arms where he had held onto her and gave no indication of accepting his apology. "Then why does it feel like you are?"

_She looks like nothing so much as a wild hart ready to take flight. _Coming close, Legolas made sure Ivy knew he was there before touching her. Laying his fingers over hers, he was gratified when she looked up at him warily rather than bolting as he would have done as a child.

"We Elves are very sensitive to the emotions around us," Legolas offered, speaking in the hushed, soothing tone he usually reserved for worried horses, "and we have subjected you to a great many emotions over the past few days. No few of them most alarming."

_As I was when Mith first took me to Imladris,_ he remembered.

"When your father is angry, all around him feel what he feels," Legolas continued, as much for Elrond's benefit as Ivy's. "He has never mastered the ability to narrow his focus only to the one who rightfully deserves such anger. I know it feels as though we are included in his wrath - I can feel it, too - but in this case we are not. _You _are not."

He glanced at Elrond, who was standing very still and listening. "I suspect that your father is angry with Julien on your behalf. But unless he takes the time to explain, you can only assume he is upset with you."

Ivy and the others surrounding them were listening as intently as was Elrond, but her fingers were cold and stiff beneath Legolas'. Sliding his arm around her waist, he dared to step closer.

"It truly is all right," he murmured. "Julien is gone, Elrond would never hurt you, and I'm right here."

Shifting her weight slightly, Ivy leaned against him and slid her arm around the small of his back to dig her fingers into the back pocket of his jeans with frantic desperation. Tightening his hold, Legolas tucked her beneath his shoulder and braced his forehead against her temple.

Rocking slightly from side to side, he asked, "Will you tell me what happened?"

"Nothing happened," she whispered. "I just got scared. Julien told the truth, he didn't touch me."

"But he still did something that frightened you badly?" Legolas asked softly.

"He just..." She shivered, and Legolas tightened his hold again.

_If I keep doing this, she won't be able to breathe,_ he thought.

"He just _looked_ at me." Ivy closed her eyes. "But it was so scary...he was cold and angry and empty and mean - all at the same time. I couldn't look away and I couldn't move and--"

Lifting her head, she drew a deep breath and looked squarely up at Elrond from the security of Legolas' protective embrace. "I felt like prey, Ada. Like he'd already grabbed me. I'm sorry, but I can't explain it any better than that."

"And what did he say to you?" Elrond's voice was noticeably gentler.

Glancing away, Ivy stared across at the stairwell as if she were caught up in the memory. "Nothing, really. I mean, he didn't use any of the bad words on me that he used coming in the door."

Reaching out to tip up her chin, Legolas forced her to meet his eyes and refocus, so that he could gauge her mood.

"Do not defend him or try to reason away what you are feeling." He kept his voice gentle and slow, but firm. "Only tell us...what did he say to you?"

Shrugging, she drew a deep breath as if resigning herself to repeating the words Julien had delivered with such malicious promise. "He said we were going to have a pretty little dance later, just the two of us. Like I said, it wasn't anything bad, but the way he said it felt horrible."

Elrond and Legolas exchanged a look. _Everyone here knows how Julien has danced in the past._

"I will not allow him to touch you again," Elrond said fiercely, unable to help himself. "I swear this, my daughter."

"As do I," said Legolas.

"He will never come near you again," Elrond reiterated.

Ivy shook her head. "I don't want to doubt you - either of you. Except it's just...you said that before, and...."

"And yet you ended up alone with Julien, didn't you? Haldir left you," Elrond said flatly. Turning, he nailed the former marchwarden who was hovering at the library entrance with a half-filled brandy snifter between his hands. "How did that come to happen?"

Haldir met Elrond's accusing glower squarely. "Legolas made it plain that he did not trust me to protect Ivy, and so I went immediately to fetch him - her sworn protector - when I heard the front door slam. I thought surely she was right behind me."

"You didn't make certain?"

"Evidently not, since she didn't follow me, did she!" he snapped. "As alarmed as Ivy was by Julien's approach, I thought surely she'd realize safety lay within the library where all of you were holding court. The fault is certainly mine, for I didn't lay hands upon her and forcibly drag her along with me."

Pausing, Haldir surveyed the impromptu jury eyeing him. "Next time, I shall stand in the hallway and shriek, if that meets with your approval."

"There will never be a next time," Elrond said sharply, "for there will never be another moment when my daughter is left alone." Scowling, he glowered at every Elf in their turn. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, but...um..." Ivy shifted uneasily from foot to foot. "I'm sorry, but did you just say I'm never to be left alone?"

"That is correct."

"What about if I have to pee? Like now?"

Startled, Elrond blinked at her, and the infamous dark eyebrows lifted in astonishment. "I beg your pardon?"

"I know this is a serious discussion, and I'm not arguing about there not being a next time but...Adar...I do have an - an urgency...." She looked rather desperate.

"I see. Legolas, would you please escort my daughter to her room and stand by while--"

"Of course, Lord Elrond."

He offered the most courtly bow he could manage, knowing it was this side of a mockery and that the former Lord of Imladris would see it as such. But Glorfindel encouraged him by smirking, and Legolas was beyond amused that, once again, the new Queen's Daughter had managed to diffuse the situation and her father's tension.

_Her timing and audacity are superb._ Legolas' amusement was interrupted by her firm push, urging him into motion.

"Ivy, if you will?" Stepping back, he indicated she should go before him.

"Thanks so much." Darting past him, she hurried down the corridor and ducked into her room.

_Does she deliberately do these things to Elrond, or is she merely taking thing moment by moment and trying to survive in this madhouse?_ he wondered._ I don't remember Aragorn using that particular tactic, but I must admit it was most effective._

_Oh, Ivy, where were you when the child I was betrayed the Lord of Imladris and he called me to attend my own execution in the middle of the night? Would that you could have used your skills to rescue me then._

Legolas followed Ivy at a more leisurely pace while all the other Elves - except for Elrond - milled about talking to one another. As for the Elf-lord, he stood isolated with his hands behind his back and watched mournfully until Ivy emerged from her room a few minutes later.

"All better." She gave a thin, anxious smile before Legolas captured her hand to accompany her back to the group. "I feel like a little kid," she muttered, but didn't pull away.

The conversation trailed off as she and her protector approached, and Legolas had the feeling their holding hands was marked by more than Elrond, who gracefully refrained from arching one of those deadly eyebrows at them. Glorfindel, however, had no such qualms. Legolas ignored him.

"Thanks for your patience and understanding - all of you," Ivy managed. "And thanks for rescuing me. You, too Haldir. I'm sorry I was too slow to follow you."

The marchwarden regally inclined his head in acknowledgement of her careful apology.

"A rescue shouldn't have been necessary," Elrond insisted.

"Agreed, it shouldn't," Legolas inserted. "Certainly not in my home. But we deal with what is, not what we wish had happened." Knowing he sounded harsh, he squeezed her hand and offered a rueful smile by way of reassurance.

"Ivy, please know that I am deeply sorry for my failure in this." Haldir's apology to her sounded far more sincere that the one he had directed to Elrond.

"It's okay. Really," she said. "No harm, no foul."

To Legolas' surprise, Elrond folded his arms within his robes and stood at his daughter's side, but made no further comment. _Is it my imagination,_ thought Legolas, _or is he perhaps a bit uncertain around Ivy now? Or is it she who is uncertain around him? Someone isn't comfortable._ He decided not to let go Ivy's hand just yet.

Having relieved Haldir of the snifter of brandy, Glorfindel took a sip and wandered up beside his son. "Ivy, in case you're harboring doubts, you must know it's entirely Julian's fault we're experiencing all this drama. There is absolutely no blame to you. Agreed?"

The others murmured their agreement without hesitation, but Legolas thought Ivy looked as if she wanted nothing more than end the conversation and leave the scene of the crime, as it were.

"Okay, I get the message. Thanks." She nervously wiped her hands on her jeans. "So what happens now?"

"Now, Elrond is going to raid his medicinals for that sedative he mentioned earlier." Glorfindel cheerfully swirled the brandy. "And then, Wendy is going to offer the tainted treat to soothe her brother. After that, Legolas and I are going to go off and plan the upcoming ceilidh while the rest of you entertain yourselves."

"We were talking about watching a movie," Alasse said hopefully, as though she feared this possibility had been canceled.

The other ellith nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, but please don't let it be _Cats_ again," protested Sindohte.

"No, not _Cats,"_ Tamurile said dismissively, "nor are we going to sit through _Riverdance_ again with its hopping fairies - sorry, Haldir. I brought something new. Something I think all of you will love - especially Elrond."

"Me?"

"Yes." Her blue eyes twinkled. "It's the new _Phantom of the Opera_, with all its fantastic music and seriously brooding hero. Remember last summer, when we all agreed that Lord Elrond and the phantom are quite alike?"

"I don't remember agreeing to that," protested Elrond.

"Of course not, sweetie. You weren't in the room." Tamurile prattled on. "Verce and the rest of us discussed you, and--"

Verce made a choking sound before loudly clearing her throat.

"Oh. Right." Tamurile fell silent, but not for long. "Well, the film should be absolutely brill on Haldir's big screen with that awesome new sound system you've had installed."

"It _is_ state of the art," replied Haldir, looking quite chuffed. "There are now hybrid digital amplifiers in all of our subwoofers, and - wait a moment." He stared down at the delicate blonde Elf at his side. "_Phantom _has only just been released across the pond. How in the name of Morgoth did you manage to get a copy?"

"It's all in who you know, darling." Tamurile coyly struck an over- the-top glam pose and tossed back her long hair. "Some of us have contacts, and I've used mine shamelessly." Giggling, she clutched Haldir's arm. "I can't wait to see long-leggedy Raoul in those tall black boots again."

Haldir rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you can't."

Tamurile's anticipatory grin was infectious, and even Legolas found himself laughing.

"Would you like to watch that?" Elrond asked Ivy gently.

Looking up, she managed a bit of a smile and nodded. "I think I would."

_That's where the crowd and Ivy are going, so that is where Elrond will hover as well, _Legolas predicted. _And they all intend to be relatively happy and Julien free, so it definitely has its appeal._

"Should we take Ivy with us to get the medicinals so she's never alone, and ask Haldir to delay the start of the film?" Glorfindel sounded almost mocking.

"Nonsense, don't do that," said Tamurile before Elrond could reply. Slipping in between him and Ivy, Tamurile tucked her arm through the girl's. "We'll all look after Queen's Daughter, shall we, until you can join us, Elrond? If Julien dares to poke his thin nose - no, wait, that would be his great swollen strawberry of a nose - out of his room, we'll all scream for help like girls."

"You are all girls," said Haldir.

"You're not. Last time I looked, anyway, and you'll be with us." She turned her most beseeching look on Elrond, who towered over the slight Elf. "What do you say?"

Legolas stepped forward. "I shall stay with Ivy until Elrond returns."

"You will not. We shall protect her." Laying a hand on his chest, Verce pushed him back beside his father. "Won't we?"

The agreeing chorus was deafening to the point that Legolas and Elrond both winced. Ivy giggled despite herself before clapping a hand over her mouth.

"Splendid!" said Tamurile. "Then it's off to the viewing room with us. Time for fun and long-leggedy heroes in boots!"

Legolas knew all too well from past experience that there was no stopping the five ellith after they'd made up their minds. Particularly not when Sindohte and Tamurile were herding Ivy safely into the center of their group and Alasse was dragging Haldir down the hallway. Wendy and Verce were at the back of the group waving good-bye to those very deliberately left behind.

"You know Ivy will be fine with us until you hurry back, Elrond," Verce called.

"Where is this screening room?" Ivy protested, her body language showing clear reluctance at being separated from those warrior-trained.

"Just here," said Haldir. "Right here." He ducked into an alcove on the other side of Elrohir's vacant room. "I knocked out the walls between three old bedrooms and made a home theater in the seventies, you see? Really, it was quite fun and glorious--"

"With no chubby cherubs in sight!" Tamurile sounded triumphant. The door closed to completely muffle whatever conversation followed in the soundproofed screening room.

Glorfindel bumped shoulders with Elrond. "Come on. The sooner we get Julien drugged, the sooner you can get back to Ivy and apologize for being...what was it Tamurile said he and the phantom were?"

"Seriously brooding," Legolas supplied, pulling down the sleeves of his sweater until he could wash off the bloodstains off his wrist that had been left by Julien.

Glorfindel nodded. "Quite so."

"I don't see what is so appealing about watching a brooding mortal," said Elrond.

"You're not young and female, but you are set to take one to Warra." replied Glorfindel with a wicked grin. "Maybe you should take notes."

* * *

_A/N: To all those who want to write and ask, "What is Julien's problem?" ... Elrond will be telling you in either chapter 33 or 34._


	33. Chapter 33

_A/N: This will likely be our last update until after Christmas. To address a few questions..._

_1) We update as frequently as we can. We offer apologies that it isn't more frequently, but do not have a lot of spare time and real life has a habit of getting in the way. All we can offer by way of reassurance is to reiterate that this story exists in outline to its end, and we won't desert it. Your ongoing patience is really appreciated._

_2) Dan, Rogue and their father will indeed appear together in a scene or two later in the story. As to why Rogue started a Goth band, he'll tell you at the same time he tells Ivy. (Good question, by the way.)_

_3) Before you ask, Legolas will be back. Chapter 33-35 see the last of the "chatty chapters" with needed backstory (at last), so the action and your pointy-eared archer will return with chapter 36. The trouble with epics that aren't Harlequin romances is that they have a lot more characters and events than Harlequins._

_4) Someone asked for writing advice. Here it is: Download professional fantasy writer Holly Lisle's free "Taming the Muse" book (google for that title for the URL - this site will not let me post it here, the server strips out the URL). After you read "Taming the Muse," go to hollylisle dot com and study/memorize/apply everything she has to say. Do her workshops, as Holly provides all the advice you'll ever need. (NOTE: Neither Greenwood nor I are Holly Lisle. We are not associated with her in any fashion. We are humble writers who know her advice is the best out there; blunt and dead on.)_

_5) Both Greenwood and I love to hear things like, "I love this story, I feel like I'm there!" That's exactly what we're trying to do - make you feel like you're there. So thanks so much for reviewing and gushing and saying how much you like Ivy's little rollercoaster. So far, anyway. :) Thanks also for your kind words about Elrond and Glorfindel and Erestor. We adore those guys, so I guess it shows._

_6) Regarding Erestor - his personality leaped full-blown onto the page when his first scene began. We've no idea where he came from, he just...is. Different from other interpretations, but there's so little in Tolkien about him. The same goes for Glorfindel's personality. He evolved from the first story._

_6) Someone asked what Ithilien has to do with Legolas in canon. Um...you might want to google for the answer, it would be faster. Specific details sprinkled throughout this story (and not just regarding LOTR canon) are usually grounded (at least somewhat) in reality, like Lairg and Scottish history and weird words like Warra and mormaer. This is where all those silly history lessons and eclectic reading habits can serve you well..when you go to craft fanfiction to confuse your readers. (It also helps when you're building a world and characters you want to seem real.)_

_7) Haldir - warrior or whatsit? Someone asked if Haldir couldn't be a warrior too... of course he can if you want to write him that way. It's just that we have a lot of alpha-warriors in this story already and somebody has to be the beta-warrior on occasion. Alas, Haldir's it this time around. (Note: if you get tired of our Haldir, go over to youtube and take a look at the videos featuring the actor who played Haldir when he attended LOTR conventions. He's fantastic, and his talents go far beyond portraying Haldir.)_

_8) When do you get to find out about/see Arwen? In about six chapters (rough estimate)._

_9) How will we resolve certain things regarding Mithrandir and Legolas that are stated in the Prologue to In Your Perfect Time? At this point, we need to rewrite those details in the Prologue (which was written long before the story gremlin for Daughter of Time came along, which is why it contradicts itself.) Also, the complete story of Perfect Time has two different endings the reader can choose from. If we ever have time to write the entire story, we'll write both and post them to our website (as this site will let you post only one)._

_Don't look for this happening in the next year - sorry - maybe by the time The Hobbit_ _is released. I know this explanation is vague and unsatisfactory, but to say more would wreck what's to come in Perfect Time and also in Daughter of Time. Pfft!_

_Thanks for reading!_

_Peace,_

_Wednesday_

**CHAPTER 33**

Ivy had read that movie stars and millionaires had screening rooms in their sumptuous mansions, but the idea that Legolas-of-the-bearskin-coat should have such a thing in his very traditional Scottish-Elven manor was quite a shock. Then again, it was another of Haldir's marvelous modern upgrades, and Ivy wondered if Legolas had seen it yet.

_If Haldir's delight with it equals his enthusiasm over dimmer switches and gilt,_ she thought, _I really dread seeing what sort of home theater he considers 'quite fun and glorious.'_ _Will there be more dive-bombing gilded cherubs? _

She suppressed a shudder as she was swept into the screening room and the memory of yet another musical lunged to mind. _Oh, please tell me Haldir didn't embrace 'Sunset Boulevard'?_

Preparing herself for the worst as the marchwarden turned up the lights, Ivy was astonished to discover her worries were unfounded. The screening room was merely a screening room. It sported no horrible, tasteless theme to make her cringe, not so much as a royal purple, velvet curtain protecting the screen.

_There are only so many bombshells I can take in one day,_ she thought_. Wait, it's been two days. Hasn't it? In some ways, it feels like I've been here for a week. At the same time, it feels like I only arrived this morning. _

_Maybe I'm actually asleep in San Francisco, dreaming all this up and none of it's real. Or maybe I'm still jetlagged beyond belief and can't think straight._

_My neck is tense and my head's throbbing._ _If I could sneak off and be by myself for awhile, I'd be okay. As if that's going to happen. But I really need a little time to let my head stop spinning and try to make sense of everything. Maybe take a little nap? But no, they're going to keep piling it on, aren't they? Hey, it's all normal to them. _

Sighing inwardly, she gathered her frayed nerves and looked around Haldir's screening room.

The former trio of bedrooms now housed a small but official-looking theater, except that the floor wasn't sticky as it always was in the discount cinema Ivy had occasionally visited in San Francisco. The carpeting beneath her feet was deep green and thick, and the little white fairy lights had appeared again. Having a function this time instead of being merely irritating, the sparkles served as narrow runners to safely guide the way to four short rows of black-upholstered rocking seats. A plush black loveseat sat against the back wall, right beneath an empty frame - behind which, Ivy assumed, the projection equipment was hidden.

The room was so cold, it couldn't have seen heat since midsummer, and Ivy gazed longingly at the stone fireplace on the far wall beside the loveseat. Alas, even that was cold; she could feel the icy waves wafting from the stone to curl around her ankles.

_Most theaters don't have fireplaces,_ she thought. _At least it's there, even if it is even colder than I am. Haldir didn't rip it out, so maybe there's hope for some heat soon?_

The oak paneling matched that in Ivy's own room - _Pretty, _her weary mind whispered - and elegant picture frames graced both side walls. She did a double-take at the six movie posters housed within, and amazement pulled her over to have a closer look, which meant having a squint inside the shadow-boxes.

"Haldir have you put up one-sheets for the original _Star Wars_ and_ The Lord of the Rings_ trilogies?" she said, incredulous.

"Why not? Those six films did quite well, you know, and each trilogy is long enough to be considered a proper epic, even by Elven standards." He thought a moment. "At least, the original _Star Wars_ trilogy qualifies. We will not discuss the second one."

"But I liked Qui-Gon," she protested.

"Qui-Gon was acceptable, but his movie was not," Haldir declared emphatically before giving her a sharp look. "You're shivering, aren't you? Let me light a fire."

Leaning companionably against Ivy, Verce remarked in an affected, bored society voice, "Do please notice that all the one-sheets are autographed by its respective original cast."

"All of them?" Ivy squeaked.

"Every one."

_That must have cost lots and lots_, she thought.

Peering more closely at the one-sheet for _The Fellowship of the Ring,_ she thought the squiggles behind the glass might be ink. "So Tam's not the only one with movie contacts? Did Halden finance these films or something? Real Elves supporting fake elves?"

"I'm afraid the truth is much less romantic," said Verce. "Halden knows how to snipe on eBay to make sure he gets what he bids on."

"Verce, be fair. He didn't snipe the first Rings poster," said Wendy. "When _Fellowship_ came out, nobody cared about anybody in the cast until a few weeks after it premiered in the States. Haldir - pardon me, _Halden_ - jumped right in at the beginning to buy up autographs of those nobody actors and got lucky."

"I'll have you know every poster in here was an investment!" Haldir snapped from the fireplace.

"Of course they were, darling," said Tamurile. "They're all worth a bit - _now._ But you're not selling, are you, and one can't find an original Legolas autograph now for love or money. I know, I've tried." Pouting, she ran the tips of her fingers over the glass. "He's such a cute little Elf."

Haldir rose gracefully to his feet as the fire leaped and crackled to life. "It would be my pleasure to assist you, Tamurile dear. Give me but two minutes and a hundred quid, and I'll run downstairs and get for you an original Legolas autograph."

"Oh, you!" Tamurile slapped his arm while the others laughed. "You know I don't mean _that_ Legolas. Besides which, I won't have any mad money for months because of this mess with Julien, so don't even _think_ of offering me my heart's desire."

_Legolas would probably sign something for me for free,_ thought Ivy. _Hmmm...._

Alasse perched on the wide arm of the black loveseat, which to Ivy looked sinfully deep and comfortable. "So, Tam, we have you to thank for not being subjected to _Amadeus_ and _Titanic_ yet again?"

"Mmmhmm."

"But I like _Titanic_," said Wendy, "and I was so disappointed when they didn't cast Michael Crawford as the Phantom in this movie."

"I have to agree." Turning away from the _Fellowship_ poster, Tamurile never noticed Haldir stepping up behind her to rub out the smudges she'd made on the glass, nor the proprietary pat he gave the wooden frame afterward.

_So Haldir's a Rings fan? _Ivy wondered, amused.

"Julien and I took your mother to see Michael Crawford play the Phantom in London," said Wendy.

"And Crawford was in it at the Ahmanson in Los Angeles forever. Oh, Ivy, please tell me you saw him in it?" said Tamurile.

Startled at being included in the conversation as she was inching her way closer to the fire, Ivy took a moment to gather her words.

"I think we were living in Wyoming then," she said tentatively. "I heard him a lot at home though," she added hastily to diffuse the pitying gazes aimed her way. "I remember Mom having the CD when I was in grade school, and she played it to death. I heard a lot of _Cats _yowling, too, while I was growing up."

Tamurile and the others didn't try to hide their shock.

"You lived in San Francisco," said Sindohte, "one of the cultural meccas of the western United States, but have never seen either _Phantom_ or _Cats?_"

"I was always in school or we were always too broke. Take your pick."

"That's absolutely criminal!" exclaimed Tamurile. "Well, there will be no more of that, I promise you! We'll all make certain you see all of the best shows as they open in Los Angeles, New York or Sydney."

"Don't forget London."

"Absolutely, we will not forget London," Tamurile agreed. "We'll arrange it with Elrond."

"We can at least show her _Cats_," Haldir said eagerly. "Right now. You know we have it here on VHS."

"We know, Haldir. We know it so very, very well." Wendy's voice was filled with suffering. "No _Cats_, please? We've watched it at least once a year since it came out. You know Elrond is sick of the dancing little blighters, and so am I."

"But our Ivy has been deprived," protested Sindohte. "The child could at least be allowed to watch the tape until Elrond comes back."

Tamurile nodded enthusiastically. "She simply cannot be allowed to live another moment without watching that wonderful tomcat."

A chorus of vehement no's met that suggestion, including a threat to have the Rum Tum Tugger trapped and neutered forthwith.

Ivy gave a resigned smile and spread her hands. "Thanks, Haldir, but I guess I'll have to see it later."

Tamurile nudged the marchwarden. "You could always tuck it into her luggage for Warra and not tell Elrond."

"What a lovely idea," said Haldir, "I think I shall. Only the best for our Queen's Daughter from this point on." He indicated the dark screen. "We'll begin _Phantom_ as soon as Elrond arrives."

Continuing their chatter, the other, cold-proof Elves moved to claim the first row of seats while Ivy gravitated toward the warmth of the fireplace with Haldir, who added another log to the fire.

Offering her best smile, Ivy hoped to break the awkwardness she could feel forming between her and the marchwarden now that they were alone. _I really don't blame him for what happened with Julien. It's not his fault my feet got stuck to the floor._

"This is a lovely room," she commented, inching as close to the fire as she dared.

Haldir brightened immediately. "Do you really think so? It's one of my favorite rooms, and I hope Legolas likes it once he sees it. I've been meaning to order a popcorn machine to further the cinematic theme, but keep forgetting."

"Will you add fountain drinks, too? Like Diet Coke?"

"Diet Coke?" Haldir recoiled in horror.

"Raspberry tea, then?" Ivy relented.

"With tacky takeaway cups and little straws? And a dispenser containing those horrid little paper napkins?" Haldir shuddered. "The persons we entertain tend to have more advanced palates, and I've much better stemware."

"I know you do," she hastened to agree with him. "And I didn't notice any cup-holders in the armrests, either."

_Geez, maybe the popcorn machine would be for ambiance only?_ she wondered._ No snacking on such common fare in his theater? Yeah, well...uncultured little me would love some Coke and popcorn right about now._

Stretching her cold, stiff hands toward the fire, Ivy was determined to keep the conversation going. "What made you put in a home theater?"

"Something was needed to entertain through the cold nights," he explained, "especially as our nights are so very long this time of year. All of us have read the books in the downstairs library at least three times, and the closest cinema is in Inverness. If our guests could reach that, they could go home." The last was added with a bit of a bite.

Ivy perked up at the mention of another room she hadn't yet seen. "There's a library downstairs?"

"Oh, yes." Haldir adjusted the ornate iron firescreen that was probably hundreds of years old. "Ithilien's first library is ensconced rather awkwardly between the ballroom and the kitchen. Legolas originally attached it to the original house to shelter some of the treasures Elrond left behind when he went Oversea."

"My father didn't take everything with him?" asked Ivy.

"By the stars, no. Three ships wouldn't have been enough to carry all that Imladris had accumulated over the centuries. After Elrond left, Legolas and the twins retrieved what they could before time and the forest reclaimed it. Those things needed a library all their own, so one was built without the least bit of consideration for the flow of future architecture."

Haldir grimaced. "Legolas never seems to think beyond the moment when he's adding rooms, which is why our castle has such an illogical structure. The library was built at the front of the main house for all of Ithilien to access. New rooms and wings have been added over the years, so what was originally at the front is now in the middle."

"Oh, wow," breathed Ivy, trying hard to envision the original dwelling and the possibilities it housed. "What sort of Elven treasures are in there?"

"None now." Haldir shrugged, unconcerned. "We did have a multitude of books, statuary and art until the Sassanach made it too risky for such things to remain with us here."

"The...Sassenach?"

"Scots Gaelic for Englishman," Haldir explained. "Even today it's usually intended as an insult, so mind how you use it. They invaded after the last battle and had a nasty habit of taking whatever they fancied. We couldn't have them taking bits of Elven history. It was bad enough being considered Scottish at the time, without adding _that _issue to the mix."

Sighing dramatically, Haldir didn't seem to notice Ivy's growing horror. "It's twisted British history and a long story, and there's little time to tell it before Elrond returns. It would likely bore you anyway, regardless more than one MacLeod had a part in it."

"Then you have to tell me!" she protested. "Even if you have to whisper it back here after the movie starts."

"But, the musical--"

Ivy whimpered quietly, but Haldir shook his head and looked as troubled as Ivy had ever seen him, though she wasn't certain whether it was over Scottish history or missing the movie. The pain that shifted his expression led her to believe the marchwarden's distress really wasn't for the fate of the Phantom.

"It isn't my story to tell, you see?" he protested. "It's true that I was...nearby as events unfolded, but Legolas played a far more active and tortured role." He hesitated, then nodded decisively. "Yes, I'm afraid you'll have to ask Legolas about the particulars - if ever you find him in the mood to discuss them. Now, I really should see about starting the movie."

Ivy grabbed Haldir's arm as he stepped away from the mantel. "Tortured?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You said Legolas was tortured," Ivy pursued. "Over the downstairs library?"

"Of course he wasn't! I thought it was an architectural blunder, but it wasn't that awful. However did you manage to get that idea?"

"Maybe it's because you're talking in circles and not making much sense." Ivy knew she sounded as cross as she felt, but her head was pounding even harder than before, and the Elf's reticence wasn't helping in the least. "Too many secrets have been dribbled out over the last couple of days, and all the mysterioso is giving me a headache. Can't you just tell me what happened?"

He actually pouted. "Very well. But only a bit of the story because, as I said, it's not really my tale to tell. Where to begin...."

_I don't care, _thought Ivy, _as long as you __start_.

Staring into the fire, the Elf gathered his thoughts. "You are familiar with the Battle of Culloden?"

"A little. Grandfather spoke of it once or twice."

"Then you know the clans died in the battle's aftermath? Legolas was laird then as he is now. He was also one of the Scottish peers who very deliberately and noisily refused to support Bonnie Prince Charlie in his quest to restore the House of Stuart to the throne of Britain. Everyone outside of Lairg thought him a traitor to his own kind, but we knew his supporting the British was actually a desperate ruse to preserve the life we'd built here.

"Legolas rode off to fight at Culloden alongside the Butcher Cumberland, who was King George's own son. Glorfindel, the twins and our clansmen set off a few hours later to fight on Prince Charlie's side, while Elrond, Erestor and I stayed here in case the battle went south - which it did."

Ivy gasped in horror. "You fought _one another?" _

"No, no, no. Elves do not kill Elves. We all fought for our home, regardless what side we fought on, and we fought the bloody Sassanach. Complications arose for Legolas personally because Glorfindel was on the same battlefield."

"How so?" asked Ivy.

"The son looks so much like the father that doubt was cast as to the Lord of Laird's loyalties in the heat of the battle. Some of the English swore they saw him cut down redcoats, while some Scots - not of Clan Lairg, mind you - made it home to swear they had seen the laird cut down clansmen."

Ivy stared up at Haldir. "Did he?"

"Did he what?"

"Kill clansmen?"

"Of course he didn't! How could you ask such a thing?" Haldir sputtered. "So much for eyewitnesses. I've no doubt that Legolas killed only English soldiers - their red coats were easy enough to spot in the mist, and he was deep within their ranks, wasn't he? A lightning-quick blade thrust here and there? In any case, the Sassanach had no doubt which side Legolas had fought on, but Cumberland still accused Legolas of high treason, ordered him marched south to London, and imprisoned him for months in a prison hulk on the Thames. But never fear, it all worked out in the end."

Ivy felt her stomach knot up at that little brush-off. Haldir had even punctuated it with an airy wave of his hand, but didn't meet her eyes.

"Worked out how?" she all but whispered.

"He's here, isn't he?"

"Yes, but there's a whole lot of details left out in that one little sentence."

Haldir hesitated. "You really should be asking Glorfindel to tell you about all this."

_"Tell me __now__!"_ she hissed, nearly out of patience with the Elf's dithering and adding as an afterthought, "Please?"

"My word." He blinked down at her. "You certainly are your father's daughter, aren't you? Very well, but please do not tell Legolas I discussed this with you."

Came another deep sigh. "If you must know, Cumberland tried to execute Legolas along with thirty-five deserters from his own army that he personally discovered among the prisoners, but Glorfindel managed to reach London before the execution could take place. Legolas was a Scottish earl then, and there was a bit of an argument as to whether, as a peer of the realm, he should be hanged and beheaded, or hanged and then drawn and quartered."

"What a horrible way to die!"

"Oh, it's worse than it sounds. The Sassanach did kill the victim before pulling him apart, so it wasn't all that bad. It's just that the aftermath is exceedingly gruesome to watch," Haldir said mildly. "And I did try to warn you about the details of this story. You might keep in mind that Legolas is safe downstairs and quite in one piece."

"How did Glorfindel manage to get him out?" a subdued Ivy asked.

"Why the traditional way, of course." A breath of a laugh startled her before Haldir continued. "He crossed some very important palms in the government with gold, went aboard the hulk, and no doubt rescued his son in high melodrama. Or stealth. There is no middle ground with Glorfindel, you know? And so Legolas came back to us to fight another day."

This last was delivered in a cheery tone, no doubt intended to indicate the conclusion of the tale.

_He's leaving out a lot, isn't he?_ thought Ivy.

"If Legolas was arrested," said Ivy, "what happened to everyone left behind? Here in Lairg, I mean."

"The twins and Glorfindel obviously managed to escape the killing fields - or moor, if you like. Glorfindel headed overland back to us, while the twins skulked alongside Cumberland's army to see it enter Inverness and begin the murderous aftermath. Your brothers then hurried to tell us that same army was on its way north to us, and the Butcher had ordered no quarter given."

"No quarter as in 'kill everybody'?" asked Ivy.

"Very much so." Haldir nodded. "Culloden scholars argue today that the order was a forged addendum to the orders given Cumberland, but it mattered very little at the time. He and his army set about fulfilling the order with horrifying efficiency - hence Cumberland's earning his nickname of The Butcher - and Lairg lay directly in their path. We were expected to let the redcoats do as they wished, and the twins had already seen what that involved."

Ivy braced for the worst.

"The twins returned frantic with horrible tales of men, women and children - the elderly as well as the young - being burned alive in their homes. Sick old men were shot in their beds. Children cut down while working the fields. If anyone tried to escape, the soldiers rounded them up to die at the end of a musket, bayonet, or hangman's rope. Drawing and quartering was a favorite for the men," Haldir added as an afterthought. "Some of the soldiers seemed to very much enjoy serving their king here in Scotland."

"How in the world did you manage to save Lairg?" Ivy asked quietly.

"We gathered everyone together - Mortals and Elves and a handful of victims from the battle that Glorfindel had managed to collect on his way home. Explaining the situation, we offered everyone sanctuary in the castle while the twins offered to remain outside and watch for the army.

"When Cumberland's men arrived that night, they saw total chaos and heard nothing but screaming - all staged, of course. Volunteers both Mortal and Elven were running about like demented chickens while Elrond, Erestor and I released the livestock and torched every cottage. The flames could be seen well outside of Lairg, and our volunteers fulfilled their roles with great realism," Haldir relayed with a wry grin.

"All of our people scattered in the darkness to enter the woods above the village," he continued. "Circling round, they entered the castle by way of the old dwarven tunnels. We gathered the livestock later." Looking haunted, Haldir stared into the fire.

"I can still hear their cries and smell the smoke," he added bitterly. "The Sassanach rotters believed what their eyes told them - that the Lord of Lairg was helping, for once and for all, to end the threat that any Highlander would ever again pick up a farming implement - never mind a broadsword - against England. Some of the soldiers seemed quite disappointed that there was to be no killing or other sport that night. Inviting themselves into our castle, they ordered us to prepare their supper."

"With everybody from the village already inside?" Ivy squeaked with some alarm.

"Oh, yes," said Haldir. "But Gimli's tunnels and its cells served our people well. They were safe below and knew to keep silent while the army was here. Glorfindel and Erestor captured a few lambs for the meal."

Haldir's gaze grew distant. "I believe those were the last animals Erestor ever slaughtered for table. He roasted them in the Great Hall, and the Sassenach celebrated their victory past midnight. They moved on after a few days, but we knew they'd be back for the looting, if not for more killing."

"What about Legolas?" Ivy dared to whisper, not wanting to distract him from the tale.

Haldir shook his head. "We didn't know his fate in London for months. Some of the other lairds had their eye on our lands, and at that time merely toasting Prince Charlie's health was a hanging offence, never mind killing redcoats when you were supposed to be fighting on the side of the Sassanach. We knew Legolas hadn't died on the moor, but that made his absence even more frightening.

"Aragorn began our journey by gifting a portion of Ithilien to Legolas and he acted as its steward. In medieval times, he was _mormaer_, second only to the King of Scots. The Sassanach later rewarded him for defending and preserving Laird and created him an earl centuries after Aragorn's death. Through generations of Lairg clansmen and women, he has always been, quite simply but far from merely, the Laird. We all feared Culloden had somehow brought an abrupt end to him. With the shattering of the clan system, we also feared our life in Ithilien had ultimately come to an end."

"How very sad," Ivy murmured, laying her hand over Haldir's on the mantel.

Capturing her fingers in return, the marchwarden squeezed gently. "Change is inevitable, my dear, and all things end in the Mortal world. We Elves who chose to stay behind also chose to be part of their world, did we not?"

"I guess so," Ivy said slowly, "but it sounds like the price has been too high sometimes and being Oversea would be better."

"Perhaps. I cannot judge, as I have never been Oversea."

"Why did Ithilien end with Culloden?" Ivy asked. "I mean, it looks like it's been rebuilt, and there are people living here."

"The Mortals were able to rebuild, but for we Elves it was another matter. Legolas was eventually returned to us and his earldom kept intact - which meant the crofters living here could rebuild their homes under the laird's protection. But Lairg was no longer safe for Ithilien's Elves.

"They hid in the tunnels and were kept safe along with the villagers that first night and for many thereafter," he relayed, "but it wasn't safe for them to resume their lives here after Culloden. All we needed was for some visiting soldier to notice someone's pointed ears or an Elven warrior's rarified grace and manner, and then..." Haldir grimaced. "So Elrond used his palantir to contact Amsterdam and asked Verce's parents to help."

"Amsterdam?" Ivy blinked in confusion. "I thought Verce was born in Warra?"

"She was, but this was before Warra. In 1747, her parents ran a trading company in Amsterdam. Elrond needed their ships to transport Ithilien's Elves away from Scotland, post-haste. Which is a very long way of explaining to you that the old library's Elven things had to go with them."

"The library!" Ivy exclaimed, thumping the mantel. "I'd forgotten all about that."

"Well then, we can end the story there, can't we?"

"No!" Ivy all but howled at the possibility. _I'm so ashamed to think that just yesterday morning I thought Haldir was boring to listen to._

The marchwarden looked pleased with her protest. "Very well. We all worked frantically to box up the library's memorabilia and hide it below before Cumberland's army returned, as the Sassenach were permitted to loot at will - provided there was an officer present to supervise - and we couldn't very well have any of our artifacts and books floating about in London or elsewhere."

"I wish you'd just stored it in the closed parts of the house," Ivy grumbled.

"Never fear, there's plenty to see in the old wings if you can convince Legolas to let you back there," Haldir reassured. "Elrond didn't transport _everything_, only the Elven things. And we really hadn't time or energy to tackle all that lay in the closed wings."

"So the things shipped included all of the Elves who had been in Lairg since Aragorn had sent Legolas to North Ithilien?" asked Ivy.

"Indeed, yes, with the exception of myself and the twins."

"Why not you?" Ivy asked, curious.

"Legolas hadn't returned yet, and someone had to continue looking after the people of Lairg," he pointed out. "Your brothers stayed on with me as the responsibility really was too much for one person, but as I told Elrond at the time, this was my home and I didn't want to leave. And I spoke their English quite well," he added with a touch of pride.

"Was it difficult to move everyone and all that stuff?"

"Not at all. Two large Merchant vessels came from Holland and docked in an inlet down the hill at the back of the castle. It was quite a scene with everyone scurrying night and day, back and forth from the ships. And then they waved their farewell and sailed away. I've not seen most of those Elves since that day," he added sadly.

"What happened next?" asked Ivy, afraid of losing Haldir to his melancholy.

"Elrond's ships took the time to stop in Liverpool to gather more provisions. And then, it was off to Australia, except for Glorfindel who was left behind so he could make his way London and see to his son's rescue, as we had received word by then of Legolas' imprisonment."

"Why Australia?" Ivy wondered.

"Elrond had learned of its pristine existence from a handful of Dutch merchants he'd done business with in the 1600s," said Haldir. "He knew the Elves would encounter no real difficulties there if they chose to begin a new colony. And that, my dear, is how Elrond founded Warra in 1747, twenty-three years before any Sassanach claimed the eastern half of Australia. So you've two tales in one - the dissolution of Ithilien and the founding of Warra in New South Wales. And the fate of the library, so that's three, really, and quite enough answers for an afternoon, don't you think?"

"So absolutely everything Elven is gone from the downstairs library?" Ivy couldn't hide her disappointment.

"Unfortunately, yes. I personally carried several very heavy boxes of books up the gangway. But never fear." He patted her hand reassuringly. "Elrond has it all preserved in Warra, and you'll hardly notice what's missing here, since we've collected other, wonderful things right up into this century. Why, we've a wonderful _modern _library now, and Legolas' tastes have proven very eccentric."

"Eccentric, how?" Ivy asked cautiously. "Are we talking shrunken heads and other stuff worthy of _Ripley's Believe It or Not?" After the cherubs, I don't think anything is too far-fetched to find in this place._

"You'll see," Haldir offered vaguely. "That library has been known to drive me mad, which is why I often retreat to my own rooms. But I have added a few volumes myself, so I promise there are at least a handful of quality books in there that are worth a read."

_A library that can drive Haldir mad?_ thought Ivy._ That takes some imagining. His Ormolu clock is enough to drive me mad. I have got to see this library._

The ellith at the front of the theater broke out in peels of laughter. Startled, Haldir glanced over his shoulder.

"I see Tamurile is back to her old self," he remarked acidly. "I knew her subdued moments wouldn't last. Every elleth up there has a habit of talking during the film, which is why they are there while we are here. Honestly, isn't the purpose of watching a musical to listen to the music and the singing? The lyrics are what drive the plot!"

"What about Elrond?" asked Ivy. "Where does he sit?"

"Elrond? There. The loveseat is his exclusively." Haldir indicated the heavy black piece sitting against the back wall. "I think it's attractive, even if it is a bit oversized. But then, your father is long-legged and a bit oversized, isn't he? It was so difficult to find something that fit Elrond's requests and the décor of the room as well. All I could find were courting seats, and that was too entirely inappropriate."

She gave him a quizzical look, which had the desired effect of making Haldir offer more information.

"We've no courting couples here, and Elrond likes to stretch his legs in peace. You, of course, are welcome to sit wherever you wish." The marchwarden gestured expansively at the empty rocking-chair rows behind the ellith. "People have the oddest tastes in seating when it comes to the theater, so please suit yourself."

Stepping away from the fireplace, he dusted down his slacks lest some ash had strayed his way. "Your father will surely be along any moment now, so I'd best be ready to start the movie."

With that he stepped away, leaving Ivy alone to consider the disturbing tales and crumbs of history he'd shared with her.

_Yeah, run away before I think of another question,_ she thought_. Now I know how to get Haldir to stop talking - just ask him to keep talking. But I think he's right this time, I have heard enough for right now. _

_What he said is just as scary as what he didn't say,_ she reflected. _I mean, Legolas was nearly executed? Glorfindel had to rescue him from the bowels of some nasty prison ship on the Thames? _

_I'll bet there were rats. Hungry rats. And disease. No food or decent water. Mortals were probably dying all around him, and who knows what else happened? _

_How many months was he held? And how long did it take Glorfindel to get to him? _Shivering with dread, Ivy stepped closer to the fire in an attempt to ward off a cold that wasn't merely in the room. _Just how close was Legolas to death, and what sort of condition was he in when Glorfindel finally got him free? Come to that, how'd the two of them get back here?_

Pulling back her hair, she glowered at the fire crackling merrily on the hearth even as she turned her chilly side to face the flames. _Why is it the more I learn from these Elves, the less I feel I know?_


	34. Chapter 34

**CHAPTER 34**

Ivy's musings were cut short when Elrond stepped into the room. The door closed soundlessly behind him, and the little theater seemed to shrink, in part because he wasn't small and his presence was commanding, but also because Ivy's total attention and immediate worry narrowed to only him.

_I know he said he wasn't angry with me earlier, _she thought, _but is he still angry in general? And is that temper going to turn my way any time soon?_

Her stomach lurched as his gaze found hers, and it seemed that he was as focused on her as she was on him. Wary, she stayed by the fireplace while Elrond walked slowly toward her, his robes flowing with inevitable grace. Gathering them, he claimed the black loveseat nearby, leaned forward to brace his arms on his thighs, and regarded her gravely. Ivy didn't dare move, regardless her backside was overheating.

"Haldir assures me the movie is about to begin." He spoke so quietly, there wasn't a prayer of anyone else in the room overhearing his words. "Would you care to join me?"

"I'm...the fire's so warm, I think I'll stay here for now," she returned just as quietly. No matter her refusal to join him, she still seemed unable to break the gaze he held with her.

Elrond looked distressed at her answer, but it could have been the dim lighting giving her that impression. Regarding her evenly, he made no comment. That in itself was alarming, as Ivy could never have imagined the great Lord Elrond at a loss for words, yet she seemed to have had that effect on him twice in the last hour.

"Very well," he eventually managed. "Are you in pain?"

"In pain?" _Aside from my behind, which must be smoking by now?_

"When I held onto you earlier, you said I was hurting you." His eyes were filled with anguish.

"I'm fine." She rushed to reassure him. "A lot tougher than I look. It wasn't a physical kind of hurt, really. I mean, Julien bruised my wrist when we wrestled last night, but you just startled me. "

Nodding solemnly, Elrond didn't seem at all reassured. Looking away as the lights dimmed and the movie began, he stared at the screen. Ivy suspected he wasn't at all interested in the props auction opening the musical.

_Come to that, neither am I. _The vibes coming from Elrond did far more to command her attention. _If he's this miserable thinking he hurt me, how can I be afraid of his temper on my behalf? He really wasn't angry at me earlier, just...angry. _

She felt far too young and inexperienced to handle troubled, ancient Elf-lords, never mind her own worries in the moment. _Legolas, wherever you are, I think now would be a good time for you to show up and rescue me again._

Alas, her miraculous guardian from Mirkwood didn't leap through the door. Even though she had glanced hopefully in its direction, it remained solidly closed in a most soundproof kind of way.

_I didn't think he'd show up,_ she groused_. All right, Ivy, you can do this. Think of something - anything - to say to diffuse this...whatever it is. Like you did out in the stable. Like you did in the hallway. Three time's the charm, right? C'mon, think!_

Elrond still wasn't looking at her, which made it a little easier for her to force her feet to move, to cover the distance between the fireplace and the loveseat. Not feeling brave enough to actually sit down next to the Elf-lord, she perched on the wide arm of the couch.

_I hope he's not inclined to yell like Mom did when I abused the furniture._ _I saw Alasse sit like this earlier, so at least I know it won't break._

Ignoring the movie as the melodramatic organ overture bellowed forth, Ivy regarded Elrond until he reluctantly turned his head to look at her once more. The open guilt in his eyes twisted her heart so badly, she couldn't breathe for a moment.

Waiting for the overture to be over, she said, "We need to talk, don't we?"

"I believe so," came the careful answer, "but I am not certain you wish to speak with me any longer."

Ivy remembered hearing someone - probably Dan during one of their discussions of the art in the Rings books - refer to Elrond as the saddest Elf in Middle-earth.

_He's lost nearly everyone he loves, _Ivy remembered._ Both of his parents while he was only a toddler. His twin brother to mortality and his wife to the heartbreaking aftermath of an Orc attack. His only daughter to Aragorn, and Aragorn to his own, inevitable death. The twins never followed their Dad Oversea, and even Rivendell's valley was claimed and made ugly by Men. I can't imagine what else he's lost. _

_Is he worried about losing me?_ she wondered._ I can't imagine why keeping me around would be so important, but he's not exactly drowning in Queen's Daughters, so is that part of why he gets so fierce whenever something seems to threaten me? _

"Is your offer still open?" She pointed to the cushion next to him.

Giving a solemn nod, he swept aside his robes for her.

"Thank you." Sliding from the arm of the couch and onto the seat beside him, she sank almost frighteningly deep into the cushions. Summoning a smile, she said, "My grandfather used to say, 'I ain't never heard, seen nor smelled an issue so dangerous it couldn't be talked about.' I don't know who he was quoting."

That seemed to startle Elrond, or at least it dissolved his sorrowful expression for a moment. "One of your Americans, no doubt, given his or her lack of proper English grammar."

Turning toward her, Elrond spread his hands in entreaty. "Ivy, please allow me to apologize for my appalling behavior earlier this afternoon. I allowed my fury with Julien to boil over until you had no choice but to think I was angry with you."

She shook her head. "I understand that. You don't owe me an apology."

"I most certainly do." He touched her hand lightly before drawing away as though he feared she might break. "My temper has threatened more than one of my relationships over the years, and I would hate for it to have destroyed, in only a few seconds, the new friendship you and I have forged."

"Wouldn't Julien love that," she muttered with an irony she hadn't felt until that moment.

Elrond gave her a sharp look. "Indeed?"

"Yeah, I think so," she said slowly, "though the thought didn't occur to me until just now."

Pausing as Haldir slipped inside the room, Ivy watched him pace alongside the seats to take his place in the front row, next to Verce.

"Will anyone mind if we talk during the movie?" asked Ivy once the marchwarden was out of hearing.

"I doubt it. They all chatter constantly, and so shouldn't have anything to say if we choose to talk as well."

"Good." She squirmed sideways on the loveseat, the better to look at him without twisting her neck. "You're probably way ahead of me on everything regarding Julien, but I need to try figuring out some stuff on my own. Do you mind if I think out loud for a few minutes?"

"Not at all." Reclining against the plush back of the loveseat, Elrond divided his attention between the action onscreen and Ivy, waiting patiently while she gathered her thoughts while Erik took Christine far beneath the Paris Opéra.

Drawing a deep breath, she began. "Stream of consciousness time, okay? And it may be scrambled because I'm feeling kind of wiped out with everything that's happened today."

"All right."

To keep track of things, she began ticking them off on her fingers. "The fiasco in the hall happened in the first place because I was afraid of Julien. When you grabbed me, I was afraid you were mad at me, but I don't think I was actually afraid of you. I was feeling attacked by Julien's threats, so I reacted. Now I think you may be afraid I'll run away because of your temper. But I'm wondering if any of this matters in the long run."

Tilting his head thoughtfully, Elrond matched her soft tone. "How can Julien's latest assault and my frightening you not matter?"

"Because your being mad isn't what got to me. What got to me was thinking I might have done something to make you angry with me. But Legolas and you have both said you weren't mad at me, so that should be the end of it - unless I want to elevate what happened earlier to a higher level than it deserves, right?"

Elrond arched an eyebrow. "A higher level?"

"Maybe that should be a lower level," she pondered.

"I am not certain I understand."

"Give it more importance than it warrants," she explained with a shrug. "Make something more out of it than it should be."

Elrond still looked dubious, so Ivy took a deep breath and tried again.

"Okay, let's say I cringe every time you walk into the room because I'm afraid you'll get angry and grab me again. And you keep feeling bad because you're sorry you showed me how hot your temper is. So we end up moving further apart every time we see each other and for no real reason. I think Julien would love to be able to drive that sort of a wedge between us," she concluded.

Elrond was listening closely. "I think you are very right."

"Really?" She couldn't hide her delight. "You know, before you came in here, I was this close to letting Julien still get to me even though you've got him down and drugged. But what was I supposed to do? Decide you're dangerous to be around because you've got a temper? Change my mind about going to Warra with you? Go back home as soon as the storm's over and pick up where my boring life left off, and hope and pray I can get a job in an art gallery instead of McDonald's? Pretend Elves aren't real until next June when I have to come back here?"

"I would not blame you at this point if you wished to go back to the relative safety of the Mortal world," Elrond said carefully.

"But that would mean I'd have to ignore your rescuing me from Julien last night, and forget how tightly you hugged me in Haldir's parlor, and how safe I felt with you even after his flaky cherubs tried to hurt us. The staircase incident aside, I _like_ being with you. I feel safe with you," she admitted slowly, realizing the truth of it even as she spoke. "I _still_ feel safe with you."

The mournful look was back despite her assurances, and Elrond shook his head. "We have subjected you to many other things this week and most likely will continue doing so. I must warn that not all of those things will be pleasant."

"But no one's life is all lollipops and sunshine is it?" she protested. "Mortal reality has its down moments, and that's just the way it is. Is life with Elves the same?"

"It is."

Shrugging, she let the truth of that settle into her psyche as well.

"My time with you hasn't been that bad. No, really, it hasn't," she insisted off his patently disbelieving look. "It's turning out to be a real adventure, and I can't wait to see what happens next. It's not like it's going to be boring."

Elrond said nothing, but his dubious expression clearly said he was still not convinced, and Ivy sensed she needed to ward off any argument he might be preparing.

"I'll admit that part of me is still feeling a little panicked," she confessed, "but that's not because of you. I mean...okay, you've got a wicked temper, but so has my favorite stallion to draw. He'll lunge like a demon from hell and hit the fence and snap at me with those big teeth clacking in my face, but he's still the most beautiful creature I know, and he's an absolute dream to paint."

Elrond's look was one of incredulous horror.

"He doesn't really mean me any harm," Ivy rushed on, "he's just showing off how fierce he can be. It's horse-macho stuff, and he makes me laugh with it, because he's really a marshmallow inside."

Elrond laughed softly despite himself. "I think I can promise to never lunge at you like a demon or snap my teeth at you. But if you are not frightened of my temper, then what is bothering you still?"

"Julien," came the adamant answer. Giving a shiver, she slipped her hand impulsively beneath his.

Instantly wrapping his fingers around her cold ones, Elrond managed to entirely engulf her in warmth and security.

"Julien got there first and gave me a nasty blast," she continued. "The more encounters I have with him, the worse it gets. He's started feeling like some sort of crazymaker who's right up there with my grandmother - nuts for the sake of being nuts. He definitely doesn't deserve to have any influence on you and me. Right?"

"I quite agree." His smile finally reached his eyes to drive all the worry away. "We are friends again, then? And you are still coming with me to Warra?"

"I wouldn't miss it for anything." She leaned against the Elf-lord, who released her hand to slide his arm around her shoulders and hug her close.

Melting into the hug, she returned it. "Julien messed with my head, so it took me a few minutes to realize it made no sense for me not to blink an eye when Legolas goes all Third-Age warrior on New York clerks and irritating London Elves, but I was feeling wary because you demanded to know what Julien did to me."

"The operative word, I believe, is 'demanded'," Elrond noted. Closing her eyes, Ivy enjoyed the way his voice rumbled against her. "You were already upset. You deserved to be treated with much more gentleness than I displayed."

Ivy grimaced. "Julien brings out the worst in all of us, doesn't he?"

"It seems that way. But my child..." Drawing back slightly, Elrond cast her a serious look. "I know it must have been entertaining for you to read about fantasy Elves when you were younger, but we are truly nothing like that. I am not a benign librarian tending musty old books and presiding over endless, elegant banquets."

"I know that." Lifting her head, she startled the Elven lord with a grin. Daring to hug him tightly, she subsided back against him and closed her eyes. "I know you ruled Imladris for thousands of years and commanded armies, and bore Vilya through two ages. Facing Sauron and bearing a ring of power had to take somebody stronger than a librarian."

"Perhaps. But words like that are still exceedingly limited. They can only mean very little to you."

"But you'll teach me, right?" Craving his warmth and solid strength, she snuggled even closer. "I figure that even if Vilya is dead, you're still an authoritative, dominant Elf-lord, and your authority is going to manifest all over the place sometimes. Like this afternoon, when it felt like it manifested all over me."

"I am, and it most likely will," he confirmed. "But as Legolas pointed out earlier, I would never hurt you."

"I believe you. And I believe in you."

_If Legolas is action, Elrond's intuition,_ she realized. _When Elrond grabbed me, he blasted his emotions like some sort of scatter shot and I think I absorbed them emotionally. I was already vulnerable because of Julien, so Elrond just caught me at a bad moment. And I caught Elrond at a bad moment, too. Now that I know what's going on, I can brace for it the next time he's angry. _She shivered.

"You are cold?"

"A little. The fire's too far away."

Shifting slightly, Elrond brought a good bit of robe and both his arms around her to wrap her up in a cocoon of Elven warmth. Sighing, she allowed herself to relax against him.

_He needs this, to take care of me and assure himself I'm not running away,_ she told herself, though it was very nice to stay right where she was even without a reason. Elrond's calm, steady breathing was reassuring. So was the way he tightened his grip on her.

"It's strange," she murmured against the soft raw wool beneath her cheek, "but I swear I can feel your relief and affection as clearly as I felt your fury. I can deal with that."

"_Avo 'osto,"_ Elrond murmured.

_You don't fear,_ her tired mind translated.

"No, I don't." Sighing, she snuggled closer as Elrond's cheek rested against the top of her head. No matter the prima donna and her yowling poodle on screen, Ivy relaxed and was contented for the first time in days.


	35. Chapter 35

_A/N: Hallalujah! with the end of Chapter 36, all of the *^%$#! backstory exposition is FINISHED! and they're out of the blasted screening room! We can move ahead a lot faster after this update. So here's 24 more pages for you to pour over. Lots of mysteries herein, but fear not, Padawan. The answers will be forthcoming in future chapters. As always, thank you for the reviews - especially the detailed reviews! _

_Questions and comments...._

_**"I WANT to be Ivy, damn it. Talk about making your readers forget about their mundane problems as they read your story. And I bet you get that feeling too when you write it." **_

_Like you, we both wish we were Ivy (though I'd settle for getting to live in Elrond's library and reshelf his books. Greenwood would probably want to work with Legolas' horses). But we don't really get lost in the writing of the chapters because we're too busy pulling together all the threads of the outline and Trying to Get Stuff Right. The fun part for Wednesday is reading the second draft after Greenwood gets done with it, and reading it over again after a huge chunk of the story is done. Or reading it again months later when we've forgotten what we wrote. Only then can we really get lost in it. _

_**I thought I had begun to read a fanfic but it's in fact an epic love tale!**_

_Yeah, it is. In the beginning we thought we were writing one of those sweet little paperback romances. Now it's turned into something like seven seasons of an Elven "Highlander" series. But we PROMISE it's ultimately an Ivy/Legolas romance, and we write only happy endings. _

_**Please keep to your promise and don't abandon it without at least telling us that that's what you're going to do.**_

_Elrond won't let us abandon it. Neither will Glorfindel, Erestor or Ivy. If we even tried, I think Legolas would haunt our dreams, glower at us and make us cry. We won't abandon it. (Repeat as needed.) _

_**Are you being sponsored by the Coca-Cola company? 'With only two sips of Diet Coke, Legolas' world had finally righted itself and he felt much closer to the strong, confident Elf he had been before meeting Isabel Hamilton.**_

_Greenwood is the Coke fan, not Wednesday. Greenwood swears the stuff is the Elixir of Life. I guess Legolas agrees with her? (That line was written tongue in cheek, you're the only one who's caught it so far.) _

_**I've just found this story browsing for Hellboy ones....**_

_Nuada is to die for! If you haven't yet read Ariana Lussier's "Orchid" on this site, get thee over there! _

_As always, read slooooowly. 'cause takes you guys far less time to read this than it does for us to write it. :) _

_~Wednesday _

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CHAPTER 35

Ivy awoke some time later to the slow awareness that the singing had stopped. Further observations that crawled into her sleepy mind was that there was nothing but blessed silence in this room and that she was warm and comfy as she hadn't been since she arrived. The next discovery was that someone was slowly stroking her hair.

That brought awareness back in a sudden rush. A quick inventory of sensation informed her that she was stretched out across the loveseat, and that she was snuggled beneath a heavy quilt. Opening her eyes, she saw that the screening room was dark and still, devoid now of the Phantom, Haldir, and the ellith. The fire had burned down to glowing embers, which gave Ivy a good idea of how long she had been napping. And Elrond still sat with her.

_Oh, no,_ she thought_. I meant to close my eyes for only a moment._

Her panic was easily routed as the Elven lord's calm enveloped her, and the quilt kept her so warm that she struggled to not go back to sleep. Her eyelids wanted to slide shut again in the fire-lit room, but she fought the urge.

_Could close us again_, the inside of her eyelids teased. _It'd be easy. Just for another couple of minutes...._

Even as her breathing started to slow into easy sleep, she was startled to feel the rhythm of Elrond's deep, steady breathing against her back. She was even more astonished to discover her arm was draped casually across his knees.

_I can't be lying with my head in his lap?_ A moment's reflection confirmed that was exactly what she was doing. _Oh no...this is too surreal for words._

"How did I get down here?" she murmured, trying harder to wake up completely.

"You were leaning against my shoulder as we talked earlier," came the quiet answer. "I must have worn you out, for you fell asleep mid-sentence and continued leaning until it seemed expedient to let you lie down."

"Huh." _Leaning? I kind of remember leaning against that big shoulder of his, but that doesn't explain how I ended up with my head in his lap. _

_At least he doesn't seem to mind sitting in the cold with me sprawled across him,_ she reflected. _Still, I'm a little shocked by this, and I'm sure he doesn't usually sit around with people's heads in his lap, so I should get up._

_I really should get up __right now__**,**_ she ordered herself, but her mellow, traitorous body refused to obey that directive. Sighing in defeat, she snuggled down to take shameless advantage of Elrond's calm strength and security for a few minutes more.

_He feels so very big and safe to be near,_ she thought. _I don't think I'm particularly small, but I feel dwarfed next to him. _She smiled a secret smile against his thigh. _That's not a bad thing at all. And he's still stroking my hair._

"You really need to stop doing that," she said drowsily.

His touch disappeared abruptly. "You dislike my touching you?"

"No," she hastened to assure him. "It makes me feel as safe as anything, but if you keep doing it, I'll never wake up."

"There is still some time to pass before supper, and I do not mind guarding your sleep." He went back to carding his fingers through her hair.

"But I don't want to sleep," she protested, trying hard to fight the hypnotic affect of that wonderful touch. "I want to talk to you some more."

"Then I haven't frightened you away?"

"Not yet. Are you planning to?"

"Certainly not." His hand cupped her shoulder, and his fingers were so long they completely engulfed it along with a good portion of her collarbone. "How are you coping with the labyrinth of emotions and events we are asking you to navigate this week?"

She thought for a moment. _The polite answer would be, 'Fine,' but Legolas said I should speak my mind._ "I was thinking earlier that I wanted nothing more than some time by myself to think over everything that's happened."

Tension took his entire body, and she winced slightly as that included the strong finger pads pressing acutely into her collarbone. _Talk about instant reactions. _

"You wish me to leave you alone?" he murmured.

"No, silly." Ivy patted his knee reassuringly, and the pressure of his fingers lessened immediately as if by magic. "I was feeling a little crowded by the others earlier, but I'm okay with you or Legolas. And Glorfindel. Which is weird, because except for that year with Dan, I've been on my own. I got used to being alone, and I've been okay with that. Mostly."

"Mostly." Elrond sounded so neutral, Ivy couldn't tell whether he thought she was putting a brave face on things or if he agreed with her.

Yawning, she made the supreme effort of commanding her body to move. After a molasses-like struggle to sit up, her effort to push aside the warmth of her coverings turned into a real fight as she wrestled with the tangled quilt engulfing her.

Exasperated, she abandoned her flailing to glare at Elrond. "Somebody didn't want me escaping this thing anytime soon, did they?"

Chuckling softly, he helped her out of the quilted snare. "Haldir does seem to have tucked you in with great enthusiasm."

"Figures it was him," she groused. "He doesn't do anything by halves, does he?"

Bringing up her stockinged feet, Ivy perched on the loveseat's high arm. Facing Elrond, she shivered as the castle's ever-present chill crept in to replace her lovely warmth. Snatching back the quilt, she wrapped it around her. "I'll bet Haldir stole my boots too, so I wouldn't get his loveseat dirty."

"You would win that bet, but your boots did not go far. They are sitting on the floor next to me."

"How could he take my boots without waking me up? That's embarrassing." Finger-combing her hair and stifling a yawn, she said, "I feel like that cat who fell asleep on the cardinal's lap, and he wouldn't move - not even when his legs went numb - until she woke up." Her gaze sought his in sudden horror. "Are your legs numb?"

"I assure you my legs are just fine." Shifting, Elrond stretched his arm out across the back of the couch and tilted his head. "Your cardinal's pet sounds like Pangur, a cat who once claimed my library in Warra."

"Pangur?..." she echoed. "Why does that name sound familiar?"

"Perhaps because he was named after another Pangur made famous by the scribblings of an anonymous eighth-century Irish scribe." Arching an eyebrow, Elrond quoted, "'I and Pangur Ban my cat, 'tis a like task we are at. Hunting mice is his delight, hunting words I sit all night. Practice every day has made Pangur perfect in his trade; I get wisdom day and night, turning darkness into light.'"

Hugging her knees, Ivy laughed in delight. "Getting wisdom day and night? Oh, that sounds like you."

"I doubt that, but Pangur seemed an appropriate name for the him at the time."

"Where did you get him?" she asked.

"He was born a barn cat, but failed to thrive as he was half the size of his siblings who shoved him out of line at nursing time. Glorfindel watched his struggles and grew distressed, and so he carried the kitten to me and laid him in my hands when he was little more than a ball of black fluff with worried blue eyes." Elrond's eyes crinkled into a smile at the memory, and Ivy could only imagine how tiny the kitten must have looked cradled in the Elven lord's huge palms.

"I bottle-fed him, and he grew to be a most impressive tomcat," said Elrond. "He also became quite attached to my library and made quite a nuisance of himself. Climbed straight to the top of the highest bookcases, quite out of reach and the lord of all he surveyed. Jumped regularly in the middle of my papers and scraped them off as he wished to stretch out across my desk."

"But you love him, I can tell. That's so sweet."

Elrond gave a sad smile. "Pangur is many long years gone now."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Leaning forward, she cast about for some subject to distract the Elf-lord from such a poignant memory. "Forgive me, but I'm about to ask an impertinent question. Do you happen to have a...thing...about watching people sleep?"

"A...thing?"

"You know - a fetish?"

Elrond's expression fell somewhere between amused and horrified. "Fetish? I certainly do not. Whatever would inspire you to ask me that?"

"Dan told me about your sneaking in and watching me sleep yesterday, and here you are watching me sleep again today. It's made me very suspicious."

"Trust my son to help make you suspicious." Elrond's tone was dry. "I do not have a sleeping fetish, or a watching fetish, or whatever you care to call this - nor any other sort of fetish for that matter. When we arrived yesterday, I wished to assure myself you were all right. As for today, your body was obviously demanding a much-needed rest, which comes as no surprise considering the many stresses our merry band has subjected you to."

The Elf-lord scowled. "I feel contented that you trust me enough to fall asleep in my presence, and no small satisfaction at finally being able to watch over you - asleep or awake - as your mother kept you from me for so many years. Your nap this afternoon has also afforded me with some much-needed quiet time to think."

Ivy didn't bother hiding her surprise. "You need quiet time to think?"

"Always." His frown deepened. "I do think, you know."

"I know you do. I didn't mean it like it sounded. It's just...you need alone time, too? That's a surprise. Did you have to lock the door to get them to leave us alone?"

"Of course not. I simply ordered everyone to leave when the movie was over."

Ivy couldn't tell if he was joking or not. _He's probably serious,_ she decided. _He must like his privacy, and nobody has dared interrupt us. _

"So where did everyone go after you got rid of them?"

"Downstairs to have a drink and find other amusements until supper is ready." Elrond calmly awaited her next question.

"Why is it we've only just met, but I don't feel at all awkward with you?" she mused. "I don't usually feel comfortable with anybody - except Dan, and he had to work at it for a couple of weeks." She gave him a sidelong glance, suddenly worried. "You're not just being really polite or extremely paternal with me, are you?"

"No, I really am not," he confirmed.

"I didn't think so." She couldn't help the small sigh of relief that escaped. "You don't feel like Mom felt to me whenever she stopped listening and wanted to move on to something else." Ivy shook her head. "No matter what, she was always thinking of the next thing she wanted to do."

"I would never do you such a disservice."

"Disservice?" She puzzled that over. "I don't know what that means. Wait, I know what the word means, but I don't understand the context you're using it in."

"It means I would never hurt you as I believe others have done. Would it not be unspeakably cruel for me to invite you into our strange new world and expect you to navigate it without any advice or help?"

"Mom did," Ivy pointed out quietly.

"I find that unforgivable. So do Legolas or the others." His warm grey eyes regarded her evenly.

"You really don't mind looking after me or endlessly answering my questions?" she asked.

"Not at all. I chafed a great many years at not being able to do so, and no one else in recent memory has allowed me such ongoing liberties in the art of conversation."

"Huh?"

Elrond smiled. "No one but you wishes to hear me talk."

"I love hearing you talk, never mind the things you tell me. And I came in at the middle of the movie, remember? I need lots of exposition." Ivy was amazed at the Elf-lord's seemingly endless patience, especially since she now knew it was all wrapped up in a tall, powerful package of quick-to-anger. "Why in the world didn't Mom tell me about you, along with Haldir?"

"For reasons I have never quite understood, your mother seems to find me intimidating and easier to ignore than to deal with. Julien and Wendy are much more to her liking."

"Oh yeah, I can see that. Intimidating you can be, and Wendy likes to shop. But I like you," Ivy reassured him hastily, "and I do not like Julien. At all. Jury's still out about Wendy. She's a bit odd, somehow."

"Indeed? I do not intimidate you?"

"Not at the moment. Right now, you feel comfy."

He gave a solemn nod, but Ivy saw the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "May you always fine me...comfy."

"So..." she ventured cautiously, "would now be a good time to ask a couple of questions that have been bothering me?"

"It would."

"Okay. So...could you maybe tell me what happened to the other Queen's Daughters?"

"That would be an all-night proposition." Settling himself more comfortably on the loveseat, Elrond continued. "Most Queen's Daughters did not wish to live as Elves, and their full history among Men is contained in my library at Warra. You may read it as soon as you've mastered Sindarin."

"Oh, great," she said, keenly disappointed. "That'll take months."

"Which is why I am quite willing to give you the short version this evening. Determined to marry Mortals and have families, prior Queen's Daughters - including your mother - have found it extremely difficult to watch their husbands and children die in the fulfillment of Mortal time. Most daughters' minds have not been suited to cope with immortality, and so each has become ever more weary of this world and burdened by its sorrows."

"So they just…die? Just like that?" Ivy asked.

"Most simply fade away," Elrond said, his eyes full of sorrow, "but a few have met less peaceful deaths."

A chill having nothing to do with the temperature of the room ran up Ivy's spine. "Less peaceful, how?"

"Your great-grandmother Violet Hamilton is a case in point. A music hall singer in New York, she informed her Mortal lover, Danny Sheets, that she preferred performing to marrying him, when in truth she knew tying herself to him would only end in tears. This, regardless the fact that, as a public performer, her eternal youth was beginning to be remarked upon as she lived before the excuse of plastic surgery was an option," Elrond added sourly. "Once denied, Danny stabbed Violet in a fit of jealousy and then killed himself with their three-year-old daughter - your grandmother Isabel - looking on. Police found the toddler sitting in her mother's blood."

Ivy gasped. "Poor grandmother, that's terrible! I can't believe I just said that about someone who wrecked my family, but nobody ever told me about that part of her history. It's awful, even for crazy Granny Isabel."

"That is life among Mortals." Elrond murmured, seemingly caught between his natural compassion and the memory of Isabel at her tyrannical worst. "Legolas was determined to whisk young Isabel away from the madness, but her mother's brother - a Mortal, of course, who knew nothing of Greenwood or the existence of Elves - became Isabel's guardian a few days before Legolas' ship steamed into New York."

"Do you think she remembered her father killing her mother?" asked Ivy.

Elrond hesitated. "It might be argued that a Mortal toddler would not be permanently traumatized by seeing her mother murdered, but that was disproved toward the end of the twentieth century. Even babies seem to remember a great deal - most certainly the emotions they experience while witnessing such a horrific crime.

"Isabel was not a Mortal toddler," he pointed out, "and yes, she remembered and was deeply affected by the violence and loss. Legolas and I knew she was desperately in need of help, yet because of Mortal law and her uncle's interference, we were unable to do anything but watch from a distance while she grew up."

"As you watched me?"

Elrond nodded. "And so, Isabel received no help in coping with her traumatic memories. Even worse, she knew nothing of her Elven heritage until she left her uncle's home at eighteen and moved to New Haven to work as a billing clerk for the Connecticut District Telephone Company."

"Were you the one who told her about the Elven connection?"

"Alas, no. She spent her lunch hours in a small diner near her place of work, and Legolas arranged to frequent the same establishment. One day, the diner was crowded and he asked if she would care to join him at his table. Thus began the casual friendship that eventually enabled him to reveal to Isabel her heritage."

"Sneaky Elf."

"He is that," Elrond agreed. "Isabel's childhood had not been a pleasant one under the care of her uncle, and while Legolas apologized and explained at length the reasons he could not contact her before she had reached her majority...I don't believe your grandmother ever forgave him for not riding up on a white charger, in full armor, and spiriting her away for us to raise."

Ivy wrinkled her nose. "That sounds like the sort of unrealistic fantasy she would have expected. But what sort of relationship did you end up having with Isabel?"

"The same as with many other Queen's Daughters - I saw her at our board meetings every six months and tried to remain close to her," Elrond said quietly. "But more often than not my help has not been wanted, and such was the case with Isabel."

Elrond's smile was bittersweet. "As a rule, it seems my expectations are far too high. I will endeavor not to make the same mistake with you. In most cases, Legolas has acted as each daughter's guardian and point of contact with our Elven world."

"Does that mean I'm supposed to deal with Legolas after my visit to Warra, and not with you?" she asked carefully. _I've only just found Elrond, and now I'm not supposed to even talk to him?_

"No!" came the firm, almost explosive reply, which jolted Ivy into staring at him in sudden alarm. "You are my daughter, and no one can deny you the right to interact with me. Only you can deny me the right to see and speak with you."

"Oh good, 'cause that is so not going to happen."

He smiled before squeezing her knee in simple affection. "Agreed."

"Has Legolas..." She squirmed, not wanting and yet wanting - needing - to know the answer to her next question. "I mean, what has been his relationship with the other...."

"Has Legolas gotten himself emotionally entangled with any Queen's Daughter other than Isabel Hamilton?" Elrond finished for her. "No."

_Whew,_ she thought.

"In time, you will discover that Legolas is still very much a Mirkwood wildling at heart." Elrond thought for a moment. "You are familiar with Kipling's, 'The Cat That Walked By Himself'?"

"I remember reading it as a child," she said, uncertain where Elrond was going.

"Well, that is Legolas," said the Elf-lord. "He will protect the Queen's Daughters and run himself ragged earning outrageous amounts of money to keep safe his clansmen and all of the Elves left in this world. He will preside at Lairg's ceilidhs and be kind to all of the Mortal children when he is at-home, as long as they do not pull his tail too hard.

"'But when he has done that, and between times,'" quoted Elrond, modulating his voice much lower and speaking very deliberately, "'when the moon gets up and night comes, he is the Cat That Walks By Himself, and all places are alike to him. Then he goes out to the Wet Wild Woods or up the Wet Wild Trees or on the Wet Wild Roofs, waving his wild tail and walking by his wild lone.'"

Ivy burst out laughing.

Elrond was smiling as well. "You don't believe me?"

"I'm having a hard time seeing Legolas waving his tail." She giggled. "But I think you might be right about the rest of it."

"I am right. You'll see." He sounded smug. "For that very reason, if for no other, it was more than startling when Legolas involved himself with Isabel."

Ivy worried a corner of the quilt. "Do you know exactly why he was attracted to her?"

Elrond considered the question. "Initially, I believe it was because she was vulnerable and needed him. The affair began when Isabel asked him for help, not only in dealing with us, but in forming a life for herself. She was very naïve about the world, and Legolas longed to protect her from all future harm. Isabel presented well at the beginning. She was young and fresh, beautiful and glittering, and she quite lit up the room when she entered it."

At Ivy's dubious expression, Elrond nodded.

"Yes, your grandmother could be very charismatic when she wanted to be, and Legolas became quite taken with her. In the early days, any road, until her instability and meanness began rearing their ugly little heads - which unfortunately took very little time to manifest after she encountered the world of Elves.

"She found all of us very strange and felt so inferior that she began fighting - most especially with Legolas - to be what she perceived as our equal. She tested him incessantly, played endlessly with his emotions, and in a matter of days had evolved into quite the prima donna. There was no pleasing her, and Glorfindel despaired of watching her abuse his son, but there was nothing for it except to let Legolas ride the train that was Isabel until it crashed."

"So there haven't been any other women in Legolas' life at all?" Ivy asked, sick at heart over her grandmother's tormenting him.

"Not in any serious sense, for he has always found it difficult to trust anyone. Legolas is not like Elladan or others who have successfully forged a relationship or two with Mortal women over the centuries. I believe Legolas has had quite enough of watching loved ones die, first in Gondor and Ithilien and more recently here in Lairg. Watching Aragorn and his other friends die was painful enough. He has no wish to repeat the experience, yet his commitment to the village below even now ensures he cannot escape such losses entirely. Why should he wish for additional sorrow in the form of more intimate entanglements with a Mortal wife and children?"

"I see what you mean. Have you ever gotten involved with a Mortal woman?" Ivy couldn't resist asking.

"No." From the baleful look Elrond gave her, Ivy knew instantly that his love life was not a subject she should pursue.

"Oh." She frantically cast about for another, maybe-safe question. "Arwen lived as Mortal, right? Has she been able to help any of the Queen's Daughters?"

Glancing away, Elrond was silent a long moment before saying carefully, "Arwen lives in seclusion and is unable to help anyone. Not even herself."

_Okay, that's two for two,_ Ivy realized. _No more questions about the Elf-lord's romantic life, and we don't speak of Arwen. It's like she's the stereotypical elephant in the room that everybody ignores with a lot of determination, and Elrond's obviously working at it really hard, but she's obviously still there. Seclusion…he said she lives in seclusion, so does that mean she has to be locked up? _

_Hey, let's see if we can get a third strike here. _

"Adar..." she began with much trepidation, waiting until he turned his head and looked at her before continuing. "Please forgive me for asking, but do Queen's Daughters go insane or something?"

Eyes widening in shock, Elrond reared back to stare openly at her. "Insane? No."

Relief washed over Ivy, only to dissolve into sharp alarm as Elrond continued speaking.

"At least, they do not go insane in the classic horror-movie sense. The Queen's Madness does not make you run wild-eyed and screaming through the corridors, nor do you try to claw people's eyes out and need to be locked up for your own safety. No Queen's Daughter has ever heard voices telling her to kill someone. Nor has any one of them tried slitting her wrists."

"The...Queen's Madness?" Just repeating the phrase made Ivy force down panic. _My god, is this like rabies where you get to be in excruciating pain and froth at the mouth and are terrified of water and work really hard to kill people until you just...die? Is Arwen clanking around in chains down there in Warra? No, he just said not, but-- _

"Is that what's in store for me?" Ivy squeaked. "I'm going to go crazy?"

"Of course not!" Elrond snapped. "The madness is something one is born with or not. It manifests when one is still a child, and you do not have it."

"How can you be so certain?" she demanded, frightened beyond reason at this latest revelation. Elrond sounded quite firm, but Ivy still had to ask again, if only to hear it one more time.

"Am I not a healer?" demanded the Elf-lord.

"Well, yeah. But maybe I'm just presenting well, like Isabel did."

"Am I not also father to the original queen?"

"Yeah, but..." _That's somehow not the slightest bit reassuring. _"But you call it the Queen's Madness, so doesn't that make Arwen insane by definition? My grandmother was sure nuts by anybody's description!"

"My daughter is not insane in any clinical sense!" he snapped. "She is...."

His anger dissolved in an instant, only to be replaced once more by hesitation and sadness. Sighing deeply, Elrond closed his eyes and took a long time to gather his thoughts.

"Arwen is not insane," he said more calmly. "She is, in fact, quite gentle and hospitable as you will see when we reach Warra. But no, Ivy, you do not have the Queen's Madness. Of this, I am absolutely certain."

"But Isabel had it, didn't she?" Ivy asked. "Is that why she treated Legolas so badly?"

"Isabel treated a great many people badly, including your mother and your baby sister."

"What, exactly, was wrong with her?" Ivy prodded, unwilling now to let Elrond off the hook for anything except Arwen. _I don't want to hurt him, but I really need some answers here,_ _and I'm more likely to get them now while we've got the ball rolling. Down hill. Really fast. It's probably going to squash me flat by the time we're done, but I have to __know__._

"It is my professional opinion that Isabel was an untreated bi-polar," Elrond said reluctantly but succinctly, finally giving clear definition to one of the things tormenting Ivy. "I repeatedly witnessed your grandmother's over-the-top emotional behavior, her extreme, frequent mood swings, and her unpredictable aggression. She had a terrible temper and very poor self-control, which inevitably made most discussions devolve into violent arguments. I also know that she verbally attacked your mother and Legolas on more than one occasion."

"Did she physically attack them as well?"

"That, I do not know. Neither has ever remarked upon it, but I would not rule it out. There was a manic energy about Isabel always, and Tamurile initially found your grandmother to be quite fun company during her manic presentations. But the dark mood always followed, and that sort of company Tamurile found no fun at all. In fact, those moods became quite frightening, for Isabel's emotions swung without warning from the heights to the depths and back again, while anything and nothing could trigger the change.

"Every mood was accompanied by a deep, morbid suspicion and fears of imagined Elven conspiracies set against her," relayed Elrond. "In Isabel's mind, we were all plotting - individually or in groups - to hurt her emotionally or to ruin her financially. I do not think she suffered hallucinations to begin with, but I do believe she was delusional and had troubles of conscience. An unfortunate case in point is her refusal to accept any responsibility in causing your sister's unfortunate death."

A solemn Ivy remarked, "My mother wanted nothing to do with her after that. They never spoke to each other again."

"I would imagine not, as Isabel's thoughtless actions cost your mother both her daughter and her husband. Unfortunately, all of the things I've mentioned are clinical symptoms of insanity."

Ivy nodded. "My grandmother recorded some outrageous suspicions about Legolas in her diary."

"That does not surprise me. Legolas became Isabel's personal demon and stalked her relentlessly if you are to believe what she said of him. Unfortunately, her paranoid suspicions and aberrant behavior did not stop when Legolas left us. She did trust Haldir for a time, which enabled us to help her buy the house in San Francisco. That provided a certain stability to her life, but Isabel's relationship with Haldir eroded quickly after she joined the hippie movement."

"My grandmother was a _hippie_?" Ivy said, incredulous. "Oh, no way!"

"Way," confirmed Elrond. "She was one of the originals at the very beginning of the movement. Isabel not only embraced that alternative lifestyle and radical belief system, she also invited a great many other young hippies into her home - which had the unfortunate advantage of being in the Haight-Asbury District of San Francisco - for a permanent, indoor love-in. They came in droves, and everything was paid for by Isabel. Having unlimited funds as Queen's Daughter bought her many, many anti-establishment friends."

"And her personal establishment authorities were the Elves, so of course she was anti-establishment," Ivy said wryly. "I should have guessed all of this, our house alone should have made it really clear. It still has a peeling acid paint-job on the outside, and our garage door has a giant yellow smiley face on it, along with a lot of other psychedelic art that the neighbors really wish we'd paint over."

Elrond made a noise that lay somewhere between amusement and horror.

"I get, 'Hey, man! Your house is groovy, out of sight!' postcards in my mailbox instead of holiday greeting cards," Ivy continued. "The tour buses come by every day, and we've still got bedrooms that aren't usable. Mom locked the doors when we first moved in and warned me not to go in there. She said they aren't safe, but she never tried to fix them up. Are my grandmother's guests the reason why those rooms are so hopeless?"

"Most probably," said Elrond. "I'm sure the bedrooms your mother closed off were dens where Isabel's friends indulged in psychedelic drugs and free love. Literally anything could still be inside them."

Ivy was horrified. "You don't think _they're_ still inside? I mean, like, leftover hippies?"

Elrond laughed. "No, I am certain there are no bodies hiding within."

"How can you be sure?"

"Any unfortunate victim of an overdose would have made his or her presence known long before now. No, when I said literally anything could still be inside those rooms, I was referring to things like stained mattresses and broken lava lamps, black-painted walls with black-light posters and 'Frodo Lives' bumper stickers, rusty needles, broken hookas and other drug paraphernalia―"

Ivy clapped her hands over her ears. It was beyond weird to hear Elrond use the hippie subculture's lingo, and Ivy closed her eyes against the images behind the words. "Not listening! No wonder Mom locked the doors."

"Trashed rooms no doubt lay behind those doors. Isabel rejected what she saw as middle-class Mortal and Elven morality, you see? She was searching for 'a higher consciousness and intuitive spontaneity'."

"Whatever that means."

"Exactly. I believe it was anything your grandmother wanted at any given moment, in all capacities. Your mother once confided to Haldir that, as a little girl, she didn't know who her father would be for the day until she opened Isabel's bedroom door and met the beatnik her mother was currently sleeping with."

"Oh, poor Mom, that's sick in so many ways. Free love, I guess. Only it's not love, it's just sex, isn't it? No wonder my mother married a fifty-year-old father-figure named Reuben. He's a stable, happy, over-thirty and responsible-capitalist a guy as you can get."

She thought a moment before asking, "If my grandmother let those kinds of people into her home, what do you think she was into? Drug-wise, I mean?"

"Undoubtedly marijuana, LSD and psilocybin mushrooms," Elrond relayed mercilessly. "We believe cocaine and mescaline also played their part, along with PCP and nitrous oxide. However, I do not believe your grandmother ever used heroin."

"Well, thank the gods for small favors," said Ivy offhandedly, though she was feeling anything but. "No wonder she was a mess by the time my sister and I were born."

Elrond nodded. "I understand the reason for Isabel's demons and must confess to feeling a good deal of pity and despair for the way she lived and died. I find myself wondering from time to time who she would have been, had we been able to guide her as she grew up."


	36. Chapter 36

CHAPTER 36

Ivy jumped as the door to the screening room opened, but Elrond did little more than turn his head. Stepping inside, Legolas cast a warm smile Ivy's way - once more revealing those adorable dimples - before pacing quietly into the room. She couldn't help but smile back at him and barely restrained the little wriggle of happiness she wanted to give at seeing him once again. _Down, girl. You're not a puppy, okay?_

_Oh, look at how beautifully that long hair fans across his shoulders,_ she thought, remembering how heavy it had felt between her fingers when she'd touched it in New York. Her artist's eye also recorded how the indirect lighting made the shadows beneath Legolas' cheekbones stand out in harsh relief, and how the shadow of his long lashes dusted his cheeks. Sighing to herself, she thought, _He's so very nearly perfect, I could look at him all day._

"I've come to make sure all is well between you," he said in the warm, unusually smooth voice that Ivy was still getting used to, "and to inform you Erestor has the ellith setting the table, so supper should be ready soon."

Elrond arched an elegant eyebrow. "Tamurile and the others are actually working? They must be hungry."

"They are. Erestor grew impatient with their hovering and so assigned them tasks to get them out from underfoot. Already he wonders if he might get them to do the dishes afterward."

Pausing before the loveseat, Legolas focused intently on Ivy. His open concern was so completely different from the brittle hostility she had encountered upon meeting him that she had to stifle a gasp. _Oh, does he like me tonight? _The world seemed to shrink to only the two of them, and she could have lost herself in the warmth of his blue eyes.

"How are you feeling?" Came that melodious voice again, which had the power to melt her bones and fill her stomach with butterflies like none before.

"I'm okay," she said, suddenly feeling shy to be the center of his attention and very much wishing she could be as elegant as Verce or as bubbly-cute as Tamurile instead of mumbling merely, stupidly, 'I'm okay,' while sitting wrapped up in an unflattering, formless quilt. "We've talked some stuff out."

"Stuff?" Legolas echoed. "With whom?"

"With me," said Elrond. "I have apologized, and Ivy has graciously forgiven me for my evil temper."

"You apologized?" Not bothering to hide his surprise, Legolas' gaze snapped from Ivy to stare openly at Elrond. "Ivy, you are indeed a favored daughter, for Lord Elrond seldom apologizes for anything. This is an event to be savored."

Turning back toward her, the Elf smirked, but Ivy sensed a fair bit of steel was concealed behind the banter. _Something tells me Legolas has felt the lash of that temper more than once himself._

"You have been spending far too much time with your father," Elrond answered Legolas, Legolas, his tone dry and unamused. "You are starting to sound like him."

The younger Elf shrugged lightly. "I look enough like him, I may as well sound like him, too. I expect both will bring me to grief," he added with a slight smile, obviously unconcerned. "What other...stuff did the two of you discuss?"

"Library cats and Ivy's relations," said Elrond. "And you."

"Me?" The blue eyes widened. "I was included in this discussion and subsequent apology?"

"Of course, you," Elrond said crossly. "Are not all Queen's Daughter's curious as to their guardian?"

"And do I not usually satisfy their curiosity myself?" Once more that perfect gaze settled on Ivy, this time with a little less warmth. "What, exactly, did you seek to know?"

"Um..." Wincing, she wished for nothing more in that moment than for Elrond's loveseat to swallow her whole. "I asked about my grandmother and you."

"I see." The tender expression was now completely gone. Backing a few steps - emotionally as well as physically, Ivy couldn't help but feel - the Elf leaned back against the row of seats, planted wide his booted feet, and folded his arms across his chest. His expression now resembled the hostile Elf's she had met initially on the plane, and Ivy's heart sank at the sudden transformation. "And what, pray, did you tell her, Elrond?"

"I shared with Ivy the nature of her grandmother's expression of the Queen's Madness, and made it clear that you are neither responsible nor at fault for the fact Isabel was mentally unstable. I was about to explain Julien's instability, if you would care to stay for that."

The implication was clear, both in Elrond's tone and in his expression: _Ivy and I are at liberty to discuss anything. If you would remain, kindly leave off looking and behaving as though you are sucking on a lemon._

_Actually,_ thought Ivy, _I'd like to hear Elrond say that, though I can imagine the explosion from Himself that would follow it._

Looking regal now as well as defensive, Legolas inclined his head. "Very well, I should like to hear this. Continue."

Turning to Ivy, Elrond ignored the bristly intruder. "You are aware we Elves were warned we would diminish if we remained in this world? That diminishment ended up applying to Arwen as well, for she has lived as both a Mortal and an Elf, hence the disorder in her line. And then there is Julien."

"Julien's madness seems unique among the Elves," said Legolas, "at least thus far. Anyone with any amount of sense would have backed down immediately when the three of us confronted him earlier, but Julien continues to defy all of us."

"I noticed that," said Ivy. "What's wrong with him?"

"He is a sociopath," Elrond pronounced flatly.

Giving a great sigh, Legolas closed his eyes. "Bloody hell."

"Bloody hell?" said Ivy, looking from one unhappy face to the other. "It's that bad?"

"It is." Legolas muttered. "It means Julien will be an ongoing thorn in our side."

"But why?" asked Ivy. "I mean, he lost the vote and you've warned him off. And he _really_ lost in the hall outside the library. He's got a broken nose, and the big dogs are dominant now. He's learned to respect the three of you, right?"

"No," said Elrond. "He hasn't. And he won't."

"So Julien's a mental case like my grandmother?"

"He is nothing like Isabel!" Legolas snapped.

"Julien is more dangerous and cruel than Isabel was ever capable of being," Elrond explained with a bit more patience.

Narrowing his eyes, Legolas practically growled. "We are not having this."

"Then I suggest you come up with some way to deal with him, short of murdering him," said Elrond wearily, "because Glorfindel and I are both out of ideas, and Julien will not stop."

"Okay, whoa." Ivy held up both hands. "Back up, please? Because everything I know about psychology I learned from network television and a more-often-than-not intoxicated college professor. In very small words, could one of you tell me what, _exactly,_ is wrong with Julien?"

"His brain does not work like ours," said Elrond. "A sociopath - whether Mortal or Elven - knows the difference between right and wrong, but he does not care and so the distinction fails to limit his behavior. Julien is what Glorfindel has taken to calling an ice child, which refers to the frozen state of his emotions. Julien, you see, can do anything at all without the slightest bit of guilt or remorse."

"Anything?" Ivy repeated, incredulous.

"Yes. This ice child has no emotional attachments to anyone because he is incapable for forming them. He is capable only of egocentric, self-centered behavior."

"And Mom considered this nut case a friend?" Ivy protested. "Did Julien hypnotize her or something, because my mother's scared of everybody! How could she be comfortable, much less make friends, with someone like that?

Holding up his hand, Elrond attempted to deflect the barrage of questions. "He can be charismatic, and your mother found him so. He can also be manipulative - has he not already attempted to manipulate you?"

"Um, yeah. A couple of times, but not very well. I could see coming from a mile away, and it was like watching Ronald McDonald trying to bribe a preschooler with french fries!"

Legolas snorted, and Ivy spared him a glance. _At least he's looking a bit less hostile in general. At the moment, anyway._

"It's nothing personal, my dear," said Elrond. "You see, to Julien, people exist only to be manipulated and used. They are tools, nothing more. You have also experienced his intense predatory stare, have you not?"

"Oh, yeah. I was meaning to ask you about that. It's a lot more effective than french fries."

"That is a classic symptom of his psychosis," explained Elrond. "When Julien stares unblinkingly into another person's eyes, he is watching for reactions, trying to read the person's emotions and use them to his advantage or mimic them. He cannot feel genuine emotion and so he often tries to mimic it, which is why he so often rings false."

"So that's why he made me feel like prey," Ivy said thoughtfully.

"There are good reasons why Haldir sends home the castle help while Julien is here," Legolas told her. "A few years ago, he broke a maid's arm while trying to force her to sit on his lap. When Haldir confronted Julien about the assault, his answer was, 'It's the girl's fault. She broke her own arm when she fought me. If she'd given in, it never would have happened.'"

Goosebumps rose on Ivy's arms. Shivering, she rubbed her arms and wrapped up tighter in her quilt. _Scared now._

"He has diminished nearly to the point of being unrecognizable as an Elf," Elrond said. "Other Elves form deep emotional attachments, and our hearts are filled with those we love. Our relationships drive our wishes and our dreams. Eternal love and romance, intrigue, nurturing and protecting, reunion - these things drive our songs and our literature."

Taking Ivy's hand in his, Elrond squeezed gently. "When I do this, what is your response?"

"I like it, so I tighten my grip to match yours."

"Julien is incapable of understanding that simple affection," said Elrond, "though he does understand tightening his grip to dominate."

Legolas picked up the story. "Without emotional attachments, we're reduced to players in a giant chess match. Other beings, whether Elven or Mortal, become nothing but pawns to us." Turning his attention to Elrond, he asked, "Am I right to assume that the only thing Julien wants - the only thing left to him - is to win?"

The Elf-lord gave a solemn nod. "You are. Julien attempts to dominate and bend others to his will. He believes he can have any woman he wants and manipulate any Mortal he comes across - including, most recently, the members of our board. This is new. He has not previously tried this game on Elves."

"So strategies and payoffs are the only thrills he knows," Legolas said thoughtfully. "Haldir believes Julien has spent the last hundred years getting better at this game. Waiting for his parents to go Oversea so he could grab his place at our table."

"I believe Haldir is right. As you saw today, that game is everything to Julien. He believes the rest of us - Elves as well as Mortals - are stupid and naive for not playing his way." Elrond shook his head. "This is what happens to an Elven mind when it diminishes. Other beings are nothing more than game pieces to be moved about, used as shields, or ejected."

Legolas startled Ivy with a quick grin. "He needs to study more. His plan today was sloppy at best, and he'll not have another chance to blindside me."

"But the damage and hurt he causes everyone--" Ivy interjected.

""I have known Mortal men like Julien," said Legolas. "The damage done by any of their actions or schemes is irrelevant to them. All that matters is seeing the irrefutable evidence that they have power. Controlling others is more compelling than anything else. If Julien can make people jump, he is winning. I do believe that is his stunted version of 'fun.'"

"That sounds like a really empty way to live," Ivy protested.

"That is because Julien is hollow inside." Elrond took up the tale. "He will never spend time searching for someone to love, for he cannot love. He never worries about friends who may be in trouble, for he needs and cares for no one. He has great wealth and can afford to travel anywhere in the world and dine with whoever he pleases, but he is incapable of sharing a single moment of that experience with anyone."

Ivy frowned. "What about Wendy?"

"You saw today how he treats his sister," said Legolas. "He is as unattached to her as he is to the rest of us. The instant she disrupted his scheme, her value ended. He considers her but another tool for his use."

"Wendy remembers her brother torturing frogs as a child during their summer holidays in the Cotswolds," Elrond revealed. "He would scoop the creatures into a net on the side of the lake, stab them in the underbelly, and then turn them over and watch them bleed out. Apparently he was amused by their hopping about feebly, dragging their intestines."

Tears filled Ivy's eyes. "Oh, God. No."

"He called Wendy to join in the fun and laughed when she fled," Elrond continued. "She told their parents what Julien was doing, but they didn't believe her. She learned very quickly to keep her kittens away from her brother. I believe his behavior has become progressively worse, if sneakier, in the decades since his parents went Oversea."

"I remember his father's concern over Julien's behavior in Victorian society," Legolas commented. "The scandal regarding the fate of young ladies who made his acquaintance was nothing compared to his antics in the back alleyways. His father was too distressed to share the details with me, but my imagination easily supplied the possibilities."

"And he hates me," Ivy whispered. "And he's here. In this house, just across the hall." Beyond terrified, Ivy slipped back down onto the loveseat to huddle tight against Elrond. "Adar...."

His arms were around her in an instant, pulling her securely against his warmth and strength. Closing the distance between them, Legolas perched on the arm of the couch to lend his support.

"You are safe with us," said Elrond, once more stroking her hair as she couldn't stop shaking. "And now you understand why Julien cannot ever be allowed near you again."

"I definitely get it. But doesn't this go against everything it means to be an Elf?" she asked with no little confusion. "Is he deliberately like this? Did he make some horrible choice or sell his soul to the devil somewhere along the way?"

"No," Elrond said softly, resting his cheek atop Ivy's head. "There is merely something very wrong with the way his brain functions. Julien cannot help what he is, and he cannot change. I know of no lasting counseling and no cure, no surgical procedure, and no drug I can force upon him permanently. He cannot be helped. He is as he is, and we must cope with him as best we can."

"That's terrible. He's terrible," she murmured, sliding her arm around the Elf-lord's waist and hugging him tightly. "And yet, I feel so sorry for him."

"Do not feel sorry for Julien," said Legolas. "If you do, you will give him the weapon of your own emotions to use against you."

"Legolas is right," said Elrond. "Pity Julien, but keep your distance, my daughter. If he knew you wished to understand or help him, he would feel nothing but contempt for you."

Ivy pondered that for a moment. "Okay, then I feel sorry for us having him here. So how do you deal with him?"

"We recognize his ability to hurt others and limit his circle of influence," Legolas answered instantly.

"That is the concern of the moment," Elrond agreed. "Mortal sociopaths have readily stated their goal is to rule the world. We have thwarted his goal to rule Greenwood, which is why his manners are suffering somewhat this weekend, and he suffers from a sense of grandiose self-importance that is not based on realistic achievement."

"Hence the elevation of his pending membership into the gentleman's club in London, among other things?" Legolas' smile was grim.

"Exactly," said Elrond. "Julien believes he is brilliant and invulnerable, and no misfortune is ever his responsibility. He blames Ivy for his losing the vote, and her interference with his plans has made her a gnat to be swatted."

"Great," she muttered. "I'm a gnat, and I've made a very scary enemy. Adar, I don't want to be swatted, just in case there was any doubt there."

Legolas laid a hand on her shoulder. "Arrogant people like Julien always make mistakes. I will protect you."

"That's great while I'm here, but what about when I'm not here?"

"Warra is well guarded," assured Elrond, "and Julien would not dare to set foot on my property."

"So I can't ever leave Warra? I mean, he already knows where I live in San Francisco. He's actually been to my house, which makes me feel safe like not at all. Is he going to stalk me so I can't ever go home again?"

"Experience has shown that Julien is incapable of any sustained emotion unless he sees you every day," said Elrond. "You will be out of reach and safe with me in Australia for the next few weeks, will you not? Julien's hatred will undoubtedly then congeal around Greenwood as an entity and Legolas specifically. Legolas, you do know he will specifically try to ruin you?"

"I welcome his attention." Legolas' smile was deadly, and Ivy blinked at the eager predator suddenly revealed in the Elven warrior's narrowed gaze, giving him an almost feral expression. "I shall enjoy having him try."

_I'm so glad he's on my side,_ she thought.

"Julien felt all wrong to me from the moment he slid into me on that bench," Ivy said, trying to distract Legolas from what were probably deadly thoughts that would get him eternally barred from entering Valinor. "I get why, now."

"I will see to Julien personally," her protector stated. "For now, however, unless we want Erestor himself to come looking for us, I think we should join the others below."

"Agreed," said Elrond. "Daughter?"

"Yeah. Okay." More than eager to leave the discussion of Julien behind, Ivy got up from the couch only to discover she was once again entangled in the Elven quilt. She pulled at the thick material, but it only fought her further. "This thing is relentless!"

"Let me help you," said Legolas as Elrond had his own robes to manage.

The aspect of the assassin-Elf was completely gone from Legolas' demeanor. Giving a quiet smile of amusement, he untangled her from the cloth cocoon and preceded her out of the room while Elrond followed, silent but observant.

Elrond or no Elrond, Ivy lunged for Legolas' hand as they exited the room. Glancing down, Legolas closed his fingers around Ivy's and leaned against her companionably.

"Are you all right?"

She gave a tight smile as they passed the sociopath's door.

"Julien's just over there, behind that bit of wood," she whispered. "I want to be as close as I can to you, because I know you can break his neck if he so much as looks at me wrong."

Releasing her hand, Legolas moved behind her. Running his fingers across the small of her back, he came up on the other side to place himself firmly between her and Julien's room. Taking her hand in his once more, he tightened his grip almost painfully.

"I will."

Ivy had only seconds to ponder the contented smile Legolas gave before the faux gaslights running the length of the hallway flickered and died.


	37. Chapter 37

**CHAPTER 37**

The sudden darkness sent a surge of panic through Ivy, and her emotions shifted from edginess to terror in less than a heartbeat. Yelping, she instinctively flung herself against Legolas, burying her fingers deep into the knit of his thick sweater.

"What--what's happening?" she stammered, her heart hammering in her chest. "Is it Julien? Is he--"

Clinging to the Elf, she felt the vibration of his chest against her as he chuckled. She belatedly feared he might object to her grabbing him, but her guide wrapped both arms around her to pull her even closer.

_As if that's possible? Any closer, and I'll be in that sweater with him, _chided part of her mind - the part that wasn't shivering in panic.

_Doesn't sound like such a bad idea. On many different levels, _echoed the scared part of her, the part that couldn't even take the time to savor his embrace. _Is he hugging me?_

"It isn't Julien, and we are not under attack," came the low, always-soothing voice in her ear. "It is merely the weather."

"The weather?"

She felt rather than saw him nod. When he spoke again, he was so close she felt his breath on her cheek.

"The snow and wind have combined to take down a power line or two somewhere. It happens every winter." Legolas smiled, or at least his voice did, which reassured Ivy that much further.

"We are prepared for it," Elrond spoke with confidence from somewhere close behind them, and Ivy jumped as his disembodied hand found her arm. "All is well, daughter. Legolas shall see you safely downstairs while I remain behind to guard your back."

"And to take care of Julien if he decides to get nasty again?" she pressed.

"Indeed, yes." Sliding his hand up to cup Ivy's elbow, Elrond gave her a little nudge. "Off you go with Legolas. Rest assured, I shall follow in only a few minutes."

Tucking her beneath his shoulder, Legolas urged Ivy forward. "How do you feel about dining by candlelight in a medieval hall?"

"That sounds..." She tried hard to concentrate on the meaning of his words, and not just on the soothing timbre and the fact they were moving through total darkness. "It sounds amazing, actually."

_Walk, feet._ She made a real effort to release the stranglehold she still had on his sweater. _Cashmere, remember? Don't stretch it. Elrond's back there, Legolas is right here, and have you heard? Little paint-stained you is going to get to dine in a for-real medieval hall with the Elves. _

"It's beyond amazing," she decided, bravely voicing the thought out loud and shuffling her feet over the carpet alongside Legolas' much more bold steps. "This is just plain wicked cool."

_If I say it, maybe it will be so._ Even as she said it, she realized it was so, if she would just gather her nerve. Aloud, she muttered, "What's a little dark between Queen's Daughter and her protector, after all?"

The Elf at her side laughed again, clearly delighted with her newfound courage, while the hard-muscled arm about her shoulders urged her onward through the blackest black she'd ever encountered.

"Um, Legolas?"

"Yes, Ivy?"

"I know Elves are supposed to have fantastic night vision, but that particular talent seems to have passed me by." She waved a hand before her. "I can't see a thing."

"Not to worry," that voice purred in her ear. "Allow me to guide you, and you'll not so much as bump a toe. I promise."

"I trust you."

She was surprised to find that she actually meant it. Legolas would guide her, guard her, and take care of any nasty surprises. _With alacrity, I'll bet. _Giving a sigh of relief, she deliberately sank down into the unaccustomed, absolutely marvelous luxury of being cared for - and about.

_Tonight, anyway,_ she thought, cautioning herself to not get too used to being taken care of. _I'm a big girl, I can look after myself - as long as I'm not alone in a pitch-black castle with a psychopath like Julien sulk-pouting in a bedroom just back there. Thank heaven for the lords of Imladris and Ithilien._

"Turning here," Legolas murmured, guiding her around a corner before halting. "We are at the head of the stairs. The balustrade is to your right, and the first step is here. Put your left hand on my shoulder and follow me down, yes?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't see your shoulder."

"Here." Long, callused fingers took hers and guided them up to his shoulder before Legolas stepped slightly in front of her and down. His hair shifted across the back of her hand, and Ivy was careful not to clench her fingers. "And so we go. I step down, then you."

"Okay." She grinned to herself, now trying hard not to caress the hard muscles moving beneath her fingers. _Very okay._

The stairs were negotiated with surprising ease, as Legolas proved to be a fine guide.

_I'm not nearly as scared as I was,_ thought Ivy.

"I wish I had a flame of some sort," he murmured as they went. "I could light the wall sconces for you on the way by."

"Do the lights go out all the time?" she asked.

"No, only when the snows and winds combine, usually in December and January. Generators kick in automatically when the power fails. They are housed in the dwarven tunnels running beneath the old house, so their noise does not reach us."

"But it's still dark," Ivy pointed out. "Maybe the generators aren't working?"

"I'm afraid their service is limited, for this is a large castle. The kitchen's needs are served, as are certain other rooms, but we haven't power enough to light the entire house."

"So there are really no medieval nights after all?" Ivy felt acute disappointment.

"You are a fan of things medieval?" His voice told her he was laughing at her again. "Rest assured that this night - as well as no few to come - will be authentically medieval. No matter the season, our Highland nights have been dark more often than not over the past centuries. Electricity is a new invention and quite fickle during storms. We cannot run the generators constantly, but must dole out the energy as best we can until power is restored."

"What if the electricity is out for more than a few days?"

"We and the village revert to living as we did before the wires reached us."

She pondered what that might mean. "Which rooms besides the kitchen get the power? The bedrooms?"

"I'm afraid not. Upstairs, we keep the lights going only in Haldir's library and the screening room, for our modern Elves are spoiled and find entertaining themselves in this dreary place to be quite the chore. Ruff and honours, charades and whist have long gone out of fashion - for which I am actually quite grateful," Legolas added hastily, "but that leaves everyone the choice of reading by candlelight or conversing, both of which become quite the chore for everyone after only a few days of enforced companionship.

"The poor darlings," he added in a tone that was far from sympathetic. "No phones, no computers, no blueberries--"

"Blueberries?"

She felt him shrug as he took the next stair. "Some handheld device that Julien seems to think is most important? He called it his link to the outside world."

"I think that might be called a Blackberry," she ventured. "Mind you, I'm only offering the contradiction in the interests of catching you up on some modern terminology."

"I have no real idea, nor do I care at this point," Legolas said mildly. "Still, I thank you, as Lee Greenwood will have to care in a week or so. Julien called his device some sort of fruit, and now it cannot be recharged. As for the remaining modern technology favored in this castle, it can be extinguished at my whim. What a delicious sense of power that lends," the Elf added, and Ivy couldn't help but hear the note of gloating in his tone.

_I'm really looking forward to this medieval living,_ she thought.

"And, we've arrived," Legolas announced as they reached the lower level.

Peering down the long corridor before them, Ivy saw the faint glow of candles - bright against the blackness - and heard the distant murmur of voices.

"And so you see, it is candlelight and firelight only for us downstairs." Again Legolas gave the ghost of a laugh.

Stepping once more beside Ivy, he slipped a companionable arm about her waist. Moving closer and bending slightly, he all but nuzzled her ear to whisper, "Welcome to Ithilien, Queen's Daughter."

"Oh, wow," was all she could manage. Gripping his fingers where they rested across her hip, she stared down the hallway and gave a slight shiver. "This is beyond awesome."

A candelabra floated toward them, held high by an illuminated hand, but the Elf behind the light was thrown into strangely shadowed relief, all but invisible to Ivy.

"That looks like something out of the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland," she murmured, pressing a little bit closer to Legolas.

"There you are, younglings."

Coming closer, the Elf behind the candelabra grinned at them, his straight white teeth shining in the flames, and Ivy relaxed as she recognized Glorfindel.

"I was just coming to look for you," the warrior from Gondolin continued. "Thought you might like some light for the journey down here."

Legolas inclined his head. "We made it down intact, but thank you for the thought."

Glorfindel nodded, then pulled one of the lighted candles from its mount before handing the candelabra over to Legolas. "Erestor's latest feast is very nearly ready, and I nicked this off of the sideboard, so best you hurry and get it back. And if he asks where you got it, I had nothing to do with it."

He gave Ivy a friendly pat on the arm as he passed. Continuing down the dark hallway, Glorfindel paused to light the candle in a wall sconce at the foot of the stairs leading up to the second floor.

"Erestor is quite particular about his décor," said Legolas, gesturing with the candelabra even as he kept a tight grip around Ivy's waist. "Here's hoping he is still occupied in the kitchen, so we can reach the sideboard in the dining hall. I really don't want him displeased with me."

"But you didn't take the candelabra," protested Ivy.

"Makes no difference to Erestor. I have it now, and I intend to put it back as swiftly as possible." Legolas scowled. "Though I'm not sure what I can do if he's already noticed it missing."

Looking up at the Elf, Ivy nearly stopped breathing to see he was lit by the golden glow of the candle flames. His silvery hair was highlighted in orangy-reds, and Legolas' eyes were such an intense blue that Ivy felt her sense of reality tilt once more.

"I don't believe this."

Legolas looked down at her. "What don't you believe?"

"Look at the situation from my point of view for a minute, okay? I'm going to have dinner with the Elves in a dark, not-so-creepy medieval castle, and it's like we've gone back thousands of years. I'm walking with Legolas the warrior - one of the fearless Nine Walkers - and he's worried about getting in trouble for taking a candelabra in his own castle." Try though she might, Ivy couldn't help the giggle that escaped.

"I see your point." Tilting his head, Legolas regarded her silently for a long moment, until Ivy began worrying that candle-wax might drip on the arm of his sweater.

The surrealism of the situation completely outweighed the fears and concerns that had weighed her down earlier. Taking Legolas' free hand, she tugged lightly.

"Come on. Let's get that candelabra back, and then maybe we can help Erestor. I'm starving, aren't you?"

"I am, at that." Sounding surprised, Legolas lengthened his stride to accommodate Ivy's request.

###

_A/N: Yes, I know this is too short a chapter/update for you. Greenwood and I will get new chapters to you ASAP. Don't whimper, be brave. :) ~Wednesday_


	38. Chapter 38

_A/N: Greenwood wrote the first half of this and I've tinkered with it after her, but there's all-new stuff past a certain point that Greenwood hasn't seen, so this will likely be altered later. In other words, this is VERY FIRST DRAFT, but I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer. So blame Wednesday.  
_

CHAPTER 38

The voices continued their murmured conversation down the corridor and the words became clearer to Ivy as she and Legolas approached. Wan candlelight spilled from the dining hall to reveal Haldir and Erestor in deep discussion just beyond its door. Actually, it seemed to be Haldir discussing - in hissed Sindarin and with broad gestures - while the Elven chef's upturned nose and closed expression made it clear he was having none of it, whatever it was.

Whirling as Legolas and Ivy approached, the marchwarden made a final, sharp motion toward Erestor.

"You talk to him, will you? I've given up." Sparing one further glare at the chef, Haldir turned away. "Sour old hermit, you are."

Still holding aloft his candelabra, Legolas watched Haldir disappear into the shadows before turning back to Erestor. "Are you still refusing to join us?"

"Yes." Leaning back, Erestor crossed his arms and gave a petulant scowl. In the odd, flickering candlelight, he reminded Ivy of nothing so much as the green ogre from a popular children's movie. "You know I don't enjoy that group, and I've other things to attend."

"I understand, but wish you would reconsider," Legolas soothed. "You have worked many hours to ensure everything is perfect for us. There's no need to hover in the kitchen any longer, so I do wish you would join us. Share in the wonderful bounty you have provided."

"I appreciate the invitation, but that doesn't improve the company." Erestor glanced at the kitchen door as though he might start edging that way.

"The company is mostly old friends tonight," Legolas said quietly. "The ellith will of course chatter among themselves, but I doubt Julien will be joining us. Between Elrond, my father and myself there should be only agreeable conversation - even with Haldir, if he has finished fussing with things."

"Hmphm." Erestor looked down at Ivy, who stood silently at Legolas' side. "This little one will be joining us as well, won't she? You do intend to feed her? She certainly needs it."

"Hey!" _Does he think I'm an infant, too skinny, or too dumb to feed myself?_ Ivy wondered.

Legolas smiled mildly in agreement. "She does need to be fed, doesn't she? And I heard her say not two minutes ago that she is staving. She does enjoy what you've set before her, don't you, Ivy?"

"I love your cooking," she admitted, determined to help Legolas any way she could in this very strange conversation. _It's nice one of them remembered I'm standing right here while they talk as if I'm invisible._

_I've no idea what the problem really is_, she realized._ Grief, but it seems like some of these Elves are walking minefields. Emo much? _

"You are family, Erestor," Legolas further coaxed. "I've missed seeing you these past years. Please at least consider sitting at table with us?"

"Please?" Ivy echoed, giving the older Elf her most beseeching look. "You could sit by me."

Her reward was a slow smile of wonder from the older Elf, which entirely altered his features. Gone was the austerity she'd come to recognize as his usual appearance. The Elven chef relaxed visibly, while his eyes set to dancing.

"If it's for you, little one, then I will. I needn't even bring in another place setting if that beastly brat is not joining us."

"I think we've just gone from the worst to the best of company." Ivy dared lean forward to pat his arm. "Thank you."

"Then it's settled. If Julien comes down late, there'll be no place for him among us." Nodding his satisfaction, Erestor glanced over her head and down the hall as new voices reached them. "Here they come, then. Legolas, you'll be putting that candelabra back. Light the other candles in the dining hall as well. The buffet is laid and the latecomers are on their way, all that is needed is your light. I'll join you shortly."

With that, Erestor headed back through the glowing archway guarding the kitchen.

"So even dinner is a squabble?" Ivy observed with some amusement. "Is that all you Elves do? Eat and sleep and fight?"

"We've given you an awful impression, haven't we?" said Legolas. "No, the fighting should be over and the rest of your visit should be peaceful - except for the ceilidh, of course."

_Ceilidh, ceilidh...there's that word again,_ she thought_. I'm going to have to ask him what, exactly it means. And I can't tell if he's serious about Elves fighting all the time. At least they're serious about eating regularly, and it's not porridge. _Ivy was surprised by a wide yawn that came on far too fast to stifle.

Her guardian gave her a sharp glance. "We've never given you the chance to rest from the long journey here or the stress of meeting all of us. You should retire to sleep after the meal."

Ivy shook her head. "No, I'm good. I just woke up after falling asleep during the movie - on my father, no less. Literally _on_ Elrond. I'm still appalled at the thought of doing that to him. Not to mention boggled that he let me."

Legolas was trying not to smile as he pushed through the heavy wooden door guarding the dining room, but the corners of his mouth were still creeping upward just the tiniest bit. "You'll need more than a quick nap after being dragged halfway across the world and enduring all we've put you through."

"I'm fine," she insisted. "I don't want to miss a moment of--" Stopping short just inside the door, she gasped. "Oh, look...."

The huge, drab grey dining hall of the night before was no more. From wood-beamed ceiling to carpeted floor and all the way round the room, someone had covered the bare stone walls with brilliantly colored tapestries. An art form all their own, Ivy was acutely aware of the many hands and many years it had to take to create such beauty.

Legolas lost no time in crossing to the far end of the hall to return the candelabra to its place. Returning to Ivy's side, he stood and watched her silently as she studied the tapestries. She found herself smiling at the four tall, slender dogs that looked like rough-coated greyhounds, standing with great dignity alongside some long-gone Mortal gameskeeper.

"Do you like them?" he finally asked.

"Like them?" Ivy had to remind herself to breathe. "I've never seen anything like them. Not in books or museums, or...oh, Legolas, they're exquisite!"

So exquisite, she thought she might cry. Stepping closer, she ran her fingers over the leaves of the nearest tree. "Look at how these shimmer in the candlelight. And I swear the deerhounds are going to come bounding out to greet us. It all looks so real."

"I am pleased you are enjoying them. It's good to see they've lost none of their original brilliance. I am still fascinating that dirty sheep's hair and dyes made from squashed bugs, berries and roots can be used to produce such splendor."

"Did your people make these?"

"They did." He walked beside Ivy as she began wandering the length of the tapestry. "Shortly after settling in Ithilien, Elven artists and weavers from Mirkwood worked to create the scenes you see, to remind us all of our common history and what everyone here was working to create for generations to come. Eventually, what we envisioned became reality." His smile grew shadowed. "For a time, any road."

Ivy stared up at him, incredulous. "These wall hangings are all original?"

"They are."

"But that would make them thousands of years old!"

"Of course they are, for wool lasts as long as you keep the moths, moisture and vermin away." He stroked the trunk of the nearest woven tree - a huge, ancient-looking oak - with evident affection. "Haldir thought you might enjoy seeing them, and so he brought them up out of storage in the dwarven tunnels."

"But Haldir said everything Elven left here after...um...."

"In the aftermath of Culloden?"

Ivy gave a timid smile. "I'm not sure I should have told you that."

Legolas shook his head. "It is no secret. I am only surprised that you and Haldir had occasion to discuss our Scottish history. The tapestries remained behind only because they lay rolled up and forgotten in an airtight stone...sarcophagi, for lack of a better term...that Gimli and his friends fashioned long ago as a favor to the Elves who wove them. It was the easiest way to keep out the destructive elements, you see?"

"I'm glad they were left behind. I couldn't see them otherwise, could I?"

"I'm sure you could, as Elrond has preserved every other relic he took with him. I also believe the Elves who created these wall hangings are still living in Warra," he added thoughtfully.

"Warra?" she squeaked.

"Yes, unless they left for Valinor while I was in Alaska. But they have been quite contented to remain in Australia over the centuries, so I do not think they would leave quite yet. Their workshop has always produced much more than tapestries."

"Are they the Elves who make my father's robes?" Ivy asked.

"I believe so."

"I can't sew a stitch," she admitted, "but if I ask nicely, do you think they'd let me watch them weave?"

"Undoubtedly. They would probably also put you to work, if you wish it."

Ivy knew he was laughing at her again, but she didn't care. She had eyes only for the elaborate pictures they were passing. Pastoral forest gave way to a hunt scene; Elves and Mortals rode out together from a stone castle Ivy thought might resemble the one she was in - if she ever got a good enough look at it from the outside.

Reaching the far corner where the first woven scene began, she was delighted to discover Legolas had been included in it.

_Of course he is,_ she thought. _North Ithilien began with him, didn't it?_

Dressed in his Fellowship finery - right down to a moss-green cloak and soft-looking leather boots Ivy would have hoped to find him wearing - he carried a warrior's bow and wore a quiver full of arrows in the same style as those she'd seen on the plane.

Beside Legolas stood a broad-shouldered man wearing what looked like a ranger's rough-woven tunic with dirt-smudged trousers tucked into serviceable boots. His beard was close-cropped, and his blue eyes were kind, if sad, and while the man was every bit as dignified as the deerhounds Ivy had met further down the panel, his bearing was far from regal.

_He looks exhausted,_ she decided.

A heavy sword hung in its sheath at his side, and his long fingers gripped the hilt. That hilt was bright - so bright that the firelight from across the room illuminated it in a scintillating display of alternating golds and reds. From the brilliance of the metallic thread, Ivy had no doubt the Elves had used real gold.

"Is that Aragorn?" she whispered.

"It is." Legolas stood very still while Ivy looked from the image of Aragorn to Legolas and back again.

"The Legolas in the tapestry is the same height you are," she observed. "Are the proportions true to life, then?"

"They are in this particular panel."

"So you and Aragorn were about the same height?"

"Yes, though he was more strongly built." Legolas considered the weaving. "He was drawn from life for this panel, and everyone agreed at the time that the finished image bore a remarkable resemblance to him as he appeared at the end of the War of the Ring."

"This is as close as I'm ever going to get to the real man, isn't it?"

Legolas hesitated a long moment before answering. "I will tell you what I have always told myself. We do not know where Mortals go when they die, and so it may be that we shall one day see him again. I hope so, for I miss my friend."

Immersed in the woven Aragorn's gaze, Ivy sensed the long-dead king's destiny and felt the heavy mantle of responsibility as if it were her own. She yearned for something much more and considerably less than what Minas Tirith and the United Kingdom of Arnor and Gondor had to offer. She wanted the free and open life of the ranger where her life and her thoughts could be her own. She desperately needed to go back to the time when her trust was bestowed more easily, and when her greatest happiness as a young, lanky ranger from Rivendell could be distilled down to a campfire shared with an old wizard named Mithrandir, and an agile, quiet Elf named Legolas. And yet...how impossible it was to ever satisfy that need again, now.

The image and the memory entwined in Ivy's mind as it shimmered in Aragorn's sad eyes, and she drew a shaky breath.

"I wish I had known him. And yet, I feel as if I do know him." Her voice was choked with tears.

Stepping closer, Legolas laid a hand over her eyes. "Come back, Queen's Daughter."

His cool touch shattered whatever spell had been woven by the tapestry. Turning in to Legolas and away from the tapestry, Ivy shivered violently when the Elf removed his hand.

"When did I start crying?" she asked, brushing away tears. "And what just happened?"

The Elf offered a melancholy smile. "You must guard well your heart before gazing too deeply into any part of our Elven past, Queen's Daughter. And you must never venture there, whether in tome or tapestry, without your father, myself, or another whom you can trust as your guide."

"I don't understand."

"Our emotions are woven into the art we create," Legolas explained, "whether it be song and dance, painting and sculpture or anything else. Those emotions embrace all who experience our art, and this is is only one of the many ways in which Elves deliberately touch other Elves. Ithilien Mortals called it magic and some men feared it, for they could lose themselves in our creations for literally years if we allowed it."

Ivy sniffled indelicately. "Like the folktales of mortals who were carried off to Tir na Nog? Men would think they had stayed with the fairies only a few months, but when they set foot in their own world again they turned to dust because hundreds of years had passed?"

"Yes." He gestured at the tapestry now at their backs. "Those who lived through those events and created these panels poured their collective love and despair into them because we all knew that many of our loved ones and the lives we lived would pass into death and memory and myth, as all things alive in this world must do."

"So staring at Elven pictures for too long is like staring into the sun? I'll go blind or mad?" Ivy's attempt to lighten the mood fell flat, even to her. _Just as if I'd stared too long into the sun, I know Aragorn's eyes are going to haunt me for a really long time. _

"You will go neither blind nor mad," Legolas assured, "but because of your blood relation to and obvious compassion for Aragorn, I think we have discovered you can all too easily become lost in our collective memories of him."

"Like getting sucked into one of your waking dreams?"

"Exactly like." Legolas gently entwined his fingers with Ivy's before deliberately leading her away from the tapestry. "It is well this scene is hidden away in the corner. We shall place a chair before it, just so, to block your line of sight. The effect is also lessened with distance and distraction, and the evening ahead promises a fine distraction, does it not?"

"I hope so," she whispered.

_But what I need right now isn't exactly a distraction,_ she admitted to herself as her protector led her across the room. _I feel really rattled and vulnerable, and I'm not all that certain why. Maybe having a long-dead relative's emotions rattling around in my psyche isn't such a great idea? _

She dragged back on his hand. "Legolas?"

"Yes?"

"Um...this is going to sound really stupid, but would you mind if I asked for a hug?" She stared at the floor.

"Not at all. Let me call Elrond--"

"No!" Jerking up her head, she met his startled gaze, only to drop hers once more in embarrassment. "I mean...I can go find him if you don't want to hug me yourself. I mean, I understand if you're..." She released his hand and stepped back. "I shouldn't have asked, so I'll just go and find Adar, okay?"

"You most certainly will not." Legolas' fingers at her elbow had a touch of the steel she'd sensed from the moment she had laid eyes on him. "Come here."

His arms slid around her easily and she was pulled against him, enveloped in his strength. And oh, he was warm and his chest was hard. Her world contracted suddenly to only the Elf holding her, and she sank against him as if she'd been waiting all her life to feel his touch. It was just a hug, _only_ a hug, and yet it felt like heaven.

_Why didn't Dan's hugs ever feel like this? _she wondered. _Oh, Legolas...you feel all warm and safe. So delicious, like sinking down into hot bath water on a cold winter's night, and do you think I could stay here forever?_

She buried her nose against his neck and breathed...just _breathed..._and discovered how good he smelled, and how much better the real thing was than the stale scent of a bearskin parka. Her hands slid up his back tentatively, and she felt hard muscles moving there as he slid his fingers into her hair to cradle the base of her skull and urge her even closer. He murmured reassurances too low for her to understand the words, but the emotions were clear enough.

There may have been shadows in Aragorn's life, shadows woven into the tapestry forever holding a window open into his life, but Legolas felt like nothing but pure, glorious light. Ivy breathed it in as she breathed him in and never wanted to let him go.

"Be at peace," he whispered, his Sindarin suddenly coming clear in her mind. "Be still and know that you are not alone. Never alone."

Closing her eyes, she clung even closer as his voice dropped to a whisper, and she strained to catch the words.

"Know that you are safe," Legolas murmured, his lips pressed against her hair. "And know also that if your father walks in and catches me touching you like this, he will surely geld me."


	39. Chapter 39

**CHAPTER 39**

Still pressed tight against Legolas, Ivy heard the door across the room creak open. Flinching, she pushed against his chest to escape the apparently damning hug, only to have Legolas hang on that much tighter.

"Peace," he murmured. "It is only my father."

Glancing over her shoulder, Ivy saw Glorfindel take two steps forward and do a double take at the two of them. He then backed up to lean a hand on the heavy door into the dining hall and make sure it closed completely behind him.

"Best not let Elrond see the two of you like that," said Glorfindel, sotto voce, in a tone as serious as Ivy had ever heard it. "Else he'll have your guts for garters."

"Elrond doesn't wear garters," growled Legolas, not easing his grip in the slightest.

"He'll start."

Ivy was startled into the breath of a laugh, and then a sniffle as she struggled to overcome the remnants of her tears. Coming round the table at speed, Glorfindel reached the still-clinging couple in what seemed like only a few steps. Leaning over, he looked Ivy straight in the eye. "Has my son been making you cry already?"

"No! He didn't do anything. Well, he hugged me--"

"So I see."

"But that was to make it better!"

_Rambling here, not imparting info, _the still-functioning part of her brain advised. Taking a deep breath, she freed a hand and pointed into the darkness lurking in the corner of the hall, and tried again.

"I looked at Aragorn...over there in the woven scene thing...and went all weepy. I didn't mean to. It just happened."

Straightening, Glorfindel glanced balefully at the panel in question. "I see. Well, that explains everything to my satisfaction, but I doubt it would to Elrond's. A word of advice, if I may? The uptight Lord of Imladris and everyone else are about to walk in here, so you two may want to put a bit of space between you. _Now_."

The door opened on the golden warrior's last word, and Legolas and Ivy let go in the same instant. Leaping backward violently, they put at least five feet between them. Legolas stared at Ivy who stared back, her heart pounding as she watched his expression close, his blue eyes become guarded.

_He looks as if he expects me to accuse him of attacking me,_ she thought. _I hope I don't look that guilty, else Adar will definitely know something's up. You'd think Glorfindel caught us necking in the back seat of a car or something. But nothing happened! All Legolas did was hug me!_

_And a fine hug it was, too, _a happy part of her purred. _We're definitely taking out that hug and reliving it later. Oh, yes, rewind and replay. Repeatedly._

_Yeah, but now is not the time. _She slammed the door on those thoughts as the ellith spilled through the doorway.

Laying a hand on Legolas' shoulder, Glorfindel turned his son carefully, deliberately away from Ivy. Moving to the wall next to the sideboard containing the buffet, father and son began working together to unwrap the heavy iron chain locked around a winch embedded there.

Not knowing what else to do, Ivy stayed where she was, hovering halfway between the buffet and the dining table and feeling decidedly awkward and unsure.

With his arms spread wide, Elrond herded the ellith like a gaggle of geese before him. Chattering excitedly, they scattered just beyond the main door to descend on the dining table while the Elf-lord strode, silver robes billowing majestically, toward the tall chair at its head.

Dignified Erestor followed in Elrond's wake. Heading for the sideboard, he gave the buffet a final inspection before coming to stand beside Ivy. Giving him a nervous smile, she got a neutral stare and silence in return.

_Oops. No warm fuzzies tonight._ She sighed quietly to herself._ Why do I feel like I'm in trouble when I haven't done anything?_

Haldir trailed in last to claim a place next to Verce. Ivy noted that everyone remained standing behind their chairs rather than sitting down, and the ellith grew silent as they glanced about the room. Even Tamurile's giggling faded as she took in her surroundings.

"Sweet Elbereth, we're in Ithilien." For the first time, Ivy heard the irrepressible Elf speak without a trace of a California-girl accent.

"We've been in Ithilien all week." Wendy sounded bored.

"Not like this, we haven't," Tamurile said. "This is _old _Ithilien. Just look at the walls."

Glancing casually about the room, Wendy went wide-eyed and slack-jawed as she was struck by Ithilien's tapestries, but they were only a portion of the dining hall's total effect. The enormous fireplace with its roaring fire was working hard to warm the vast room, and the candelabrum on the heavily laden sideboard burned bravely on, but only shallow pools of light reached the stately table in the middle of the hall. As for the flickering shadows cast by the weak light, they only made Ithilien's presence all the more real.

Iron chains clanked ominously while darkness and Elven memory pressed against the cold windows. Both crept in to inhabit more than mere corners. The broad wooden beams overhead seemed to press lower this night, while Ithilien's early tapestries and their woven emotions transported everyone into the distant past.

The heavy chains rattled again, and Ivy glanced over her shoulder to see Legolas throw his weight into cranking the obstinate winch while Glorfindel stepped away and stared up at the ceiling.

Giving a shiver, Alasse wrapped her arms about herself. "I know this is an old hall, but tonight it feels absolutely ancient."

"Have you forgotten how far back this house reaches?" Verce all but whispered. "It _is_ ancient."

"As ancient as memory," said Elrond.

"It's also so dark, we won't be able to see what we're eating, let alone one another," Wendy protested. "Those tapestry people are watching us, and are we really going to have to wait while that groaning monstrosity overhead is dealt with? Haldir, I thought you added another generator last year?"

"I _replaced_ a generator last year, and how very spoiled we sound." Haldir himself sounded not at all concerned with Wendy's growing irritation. "The only time we live without electricity blinding us at every step is when we're all together here, in the dead of winter."

"That's quite enough for me." Wendy worried the slender wooden spindles atop the back of her chair. "I like being able to see, and I grew tired of candlewax in the eighteen hundreds - always dripping and smoking and stinking, spilling onto my clothes and running over the tablecloths. Honestly, some progress is very nice."

A heavy creaking sounded up above, and Legolas' irritated muttering in Sindarin shifted into satisfaction. A moment later, something huge began lowering itself out of the gloom.

"Here it comes. Everyone, please step away from the table." Glorfindel's hand on Ivy's shoulder urged her back a few paces.

A great round thing was creeping down from the shadowed rafters. Looming larger as it descended, the wrought-iron chandelier was absolutely huge, with two tiers of fat, half-burned candles running its circumference. Halting a few inches over the table and its chairs, the chandelier creaked and swayed slowly in the flickering shadows.

"This hall is so Middle Ages," Ivy whispered.

"Updated to be one, actually." Suddenly Legolas was at her elbow, slipping in between her and Glorfindel. In his hand was an unlit candle. "We built this dining hall stone by stone, long before the medieval age began."

"And now," said Haldir with a patient smile, "the Lord of Ithilien will tell how he planted, from seedlings and with his own bare hands, the oak trees forming the beams overhead."

Tamurile nodded. "Oh, yes, we've all heard the tale."

"Repeatedly." Wendy sighed.

"Not to mention the story of how, even now, a certain portion of Ithilien's forest is growing replacements for the three-hundred-year-old beams just up there." Tamurile pointed them out. "Because they will go all beetley. All oak gets beetley in the end, so--"

"Sooner or later, Legolas will once again have to replace the beams." Elrond's robes caressed Ivy's arm, and she jumped as he slipped in between her and Erestor.

"Quite so." Giving a slight bow, Legolas accepted their gentle mockery and teasing in the spirit in which it was meant. "Replacing those beams is not a task I look forward to, but I needn't think of it tonight."

Tamurile picked at the wick of the candle closest to her, only to pull back her hand and shake it violently. "Oh, ew! Legolas, there are cobwebs on these candles, and now I can't get them off of me! No housekeeping?"

"Housekeeping has been Haldir's responsibility as of late, take it up with him," Legolas said dismissively. "Is everyone here?" He glanced round the circle of Elves standing just beyond the gently swaying chandelier.

"Everyone but my brother," said Wendy. "Julien is sulking mightily up in his room, and he's ordered me to deliver his supper to him." She sniffed. "He can wait."

Verce eyed the candle in Legolas' hands. "Is it your intention to bring back the illumination ceremony? Or shall we all just leap in and light whatever we can reach?"

"Bring it back?" echoed Legolas. "I didn't know it had gone."

"Haldir and Elrond tried keeping it up while you were away, but my sweet brother smirked and belittled us all until no one wanted to participate. Even Elrond gave up."

"I did," the Elf-lord acknowledged. "Better to forego the ceremony than have it mocked."

"I miss the candlepassing," Alasse said quietly.

"I miss it as well," said Haldir, "and I definitely think we should revive it. We're all here, and this monstrosity is conveniently dangling dark before us."

"I've missed it too." Squaring her narrow shoulders, Tamurile met the gaze of any who might laugh at her as Julien had. "I also think it's time to bring it back since Legolas has returned to us, we have a new Queen's Daughter, and Julien isn't here to wreck things. And isn't the ceremony all about new beginnings? I know I want a new beginning after this week of Julien hell."

"Very well," said Legolas. "I am bringing it back."

Leaving Ivy's side, he headed off down the room toward the fireplace.

"Where's he going?" she asked.

"To light his candle at the fireplace." Brushing away the nearest cobwebs, Elrond scowled as the dust disturbed by their removal sifted downward toward the table. "All right, everyone. I'm afraid we'll have to add a new part to the ceremony. Please pick off the webs on the candles nearest you. We don't want their silk to burn and drop onto the tablecloths or into someone's hair during the meal."

Everyone busied themselves with the cobwebs as directed. Following their lead, Ivy rolled the tenacious webbing into little balls and surreptitiously dropped them onto the floor.

_Nobody said what to do with this stuff,_ she thought,_ but somebody's bound to be sweeping up later. Maybe it'll be bitchy Birdy or Bridie...or whoever she is._

Leaning closer to Elrond, she whispered, "What's an illumination ceremony?"

"How remiss of us not to explain," he murmured. Reaching into Ivy's space, he used his long arm to sweep away the cobwebs in the chandelier's second tier that she could not reach. "The winter illumination ceremony is an Elven custom dating back to our earliest days in Arda. This day is the shortest, this night the longest of the year, you see? Thus it is that the waning year dies in darkness tonight, and a new year is born with the dawn. Tomorrow, the days begin growing longer, and so we celebrate the return of light and warmth to our world."

"Death and rebirth are together on consecutive nights," Glorfindel pointed out, "so our little ceremony also reminds us that there is life in death and light in darkness."

Said Erestor, "Now is also the time for all of us to do some mental housecleaning. Get rid of the past and plan for the future."

Haldir snorted. "How appropriate is that, given what we've endured today?"

"So what, exactly, is going to happen?" asked Ivy as Legolas returned to her side, guarding well his new candle-flame. "Do I need to do anything? I don't know what to do."

"I will offer some words to Elbereth and light the first three candles on the chandelier," said Legolas. "This candle will then be passed round the circle so each of us may light our own. Those wishing to say a few words may do so."

"But keep it short," growled Erestor with a glare toward the ellith to his left. "We're all hungry, and supper's getting cold."

Part of Ivy was panicking, and not over the gravy congealing on the sideboard. _Am I expected to say something?_ Leaning against Elrond, she tugged lightly at his sleeve.

"What does everyone talk about?" she whispered.

"The things of the past they wish to dissolve in the darkness, or what they hope to celebrate in the new light to come." Turning to meet her anxious gaze, he offered a reassuring smile. "Follow your heart, daughter, and you might worry less in the coming light."

She offered a small smile in return, but his words did little to stem the apprehension sending her stomach into flip-flops.

_I'm happy to be kind of Elven, and I'm happy to be with them, but I'd love a script giving a teeny idea of what's going to pop up next and maybe -- just maybe -- give me some tiny clue as to what I'm supposed to do. This is way worse than figuring out which fork to use. _

The Elf-lord took Ivy's hand as Legolas lit the first wick. The Elf-lord's hand easily engulfed hers, and its warmth and reassuring grip went far toward banishing her fears as the first light began to glow.

The atmosphere in the room changed abruptly, as though the entire room was holding its breath, poised for what was to come. The others shifted in the candlelight, and Ivy noted they were taking one another's hands as well. Glancing up at Legolas, she wondered if she ought to take his hand, but they seemed to be busy.

_Twelve candles on the upper, inside ring of the chandelier, and twenty-four on the outside,_ she quickly counted. _How very neat. Thank you, Julien, for not coming down so I can see my first official Elven ceremony, _she thought with a shiver. _And they're letting me join in their celebration as one of them?_

"Elbereth who lit the stars, watching from afar," Legolas began, holding his candle steady. "To you we cry, beneath the shadow of a world that dies. We give thanks that we are all together this midwinter night and able to celebrate the returning of the light. We ask you to dispel the shadows in our lives and grand us the new beginning we seek."

Reaching across the outer ring of candles, the Elf surreptitiously swept clean the next two candlewicks before touching his flame to it. As the fire struggled to catch hold, he turned and offered the candle to Glorfindel, who in turn set alight his first wick.

"The shadows in my heart and mind are gone now that my son has returned safe from Alaska." Handing off the candle to Haldir, he warned, "I'm not finished talking, so hang about."

Turning to Legolas, Glorfindel laid his hand over his heart and gave a slight bow. Watching them so close together - almost in profile as their eyes met - Ivy barely managed not to gasp at the scene before her.

_Oh, how beautiful they are in the candlelight, _she thought_. I have to remember, have to draw this. They look even more alike when Glorfindel's not smiling,_ Ivy noted, _but I think he's a bit taller than Legolas._

"My wish this night is for all your sadnesses to melt away," said Glorfindel, "and for the light of the new year to give you hope. I love you," he concluded simply, "and I'm glad you've come home."

"Adar...."

The two shared a tight embrace while Ivy blinked furiously to clear the tears from her eyes. _Stop that! You'll miss something if you cry. Besides, you just dried up from your last fit of Aragorn-inspired tears. They're going to think there's something wrong with you, and you've got no Kleenex, either._

Glorfindel stood with his arm draped companionably around his son's shoulders. "All right, Haldir. You're next."

"And you forgot to light your last two candles." The marchwarden did so before turning to his own three. "I, too, am glad at Legolas' return. For some months, I've felt a looming dissatisfaction and a vague despair. Both are dispelled now that you're back, and I assure you it is not only because you've taken the reins to Greenwood once more, and I can give Halden the dignified funeral so worthy an executive deserves." Haldir deepened his voice with mock solemnity at his impending demise.

"I missed you, my friend," he added simply and sincerely, "and I celebrate your return. Like your father, I wish you all happiness in the coming year. And the rest of us as well. May this new year bring us all peace." He looked abashed as he handed off the candle to Verce.

"Awwwwww," Tamurile and Sindohte sounded as one.

"Hín..." Elrond spoke low in warning before they could even get started.

_Children,_ Ivy's brain interpreted after a moment. _And he's not looking or growling at me, for which I am deeply grateful._

The two quieted instantly, but still exchanged amused smiles.

Verce cleared her throat. "I agree with Haldir. We could all use a few years of peace among us. I am also grateful for the huge relief I feel this night because Lords Elrond and Glorfindel, Legolas and Haldir have helped dissolve the dark sense of shame I've had for a number of months at having deceived all of you - most especially you, my Lord Elrond."

He acknowledged her words with a solemn, formal nod.

"I celebrate our finally working as one, however belatedly, this afternoon," Verce continued, "to set everything to rights. No matter our troubles, the four of you have offered nothing but wise counsel and solace, and none of the chastisement I feared in my humiliation. My hope for the coming year is that we all remember what a loving family we have, and that we need fear nothing if we face our problems together."

She turned to Tamurile, who quickly lit her three candles before beaming at the Elven lords gathered on the opposite side of the chandelier.

"I, too, am celebrating your collective generosity and the gift of your forgiveness. Thank you." Shifting her attention to Erestor, Tamurile hissed, "Short enough for you?"

Sindohte poked her with an elbow as she took the candle, breaking Tamurile's impudent gaze before Erestor could respond. Lighting her first candle, Sindohte paused a moment to collect her thoughts.

Running a finger contemplatively through the flame, she said, "For months I've been very afraid that I'd have to sell my theatre. That my young ones - the Mortal actors who are like a second family to me - would have to find another space to play in because I didn't know when to give up on a silly dream and stupidly trusted Julien to help us. Tonight, I am grateful for the hard lessons I've learned and that my young ones' playhouse is safe."

Awkwardly taking the candle Sindohte offered, Alasse lit her candles.

"What everyone else has said," she whispered, focusing on the flames to avoid meeting anyone's gaze. "Times a thousand."

Alasse passed her candle to Wendy, and Sindohte slid an arm around the shy elleth in a quick hug. As for Wendy, she lit her wicks without saying anything and handed the candle on to Erestor. Ivy chewed her lip, watched that candle creep closer, and anxiously awaited her turn.

"So." A stern Erestor peered at everyone from between the two levels of the the chandelier. "You've all been out of sorts this weekend, and I give thanks to Elbereth that you've finally made your peace."

Shaking his head, the chef continued. "Each of you has been troubled with something for a long time, and this weekend we found out what that something was. It's been hard for me to stand back and watch while some of you got lost in the shadows and hurt yourselves because you've been too shy or fearful to ask for help. So my hope for the new year is that you'll find the light and stay in it. See your troubles through together, like Verce says, and not keep any more secrets."

"Secrets breed division," he continued, "and we all need to draw together. This is all the more important as our numbers lessen in this world and our family grows smaller. I also hope you enjoy the food I prepare for you."

He handed the candle on to Elrond, and Ivy tried to ignore her nervousness, knowing she was next.

"Elbereth." With only one word, the Elf-lord seemed to evoke the very presence of Valar he addressed. "Elbereth, hear me."

A log cracked and fell in the fireplace behind them, and Ivy jumped. A powerful, benevolent presence swept in to fill the room, and it seemed to Ivy the candle flames grew stronger and brighter.

_Does being a master of lore and the great-great-grandson of a Maia mean he can summon, at will, the queen of the Valar and the direct representative of Eru Iluvatar?_ she wondered, knowing she'd never have the nerve to ask that particular question. Standing next to Elrond Peredhil was awe-inspiring enough, and Ivy watched, spellbound by his power as his deep voice effortlessly filled the hall.

"Watch over and protect my children, especially those who cannot be with us this night. Keep them always surrounded by your light, no matter what shadows they encounter."

_I hope Dan calls soon,_ Ivy fretted, _and that Rogue's safe in Russia. And Arwen...I don't know her yet, but Elrond's prayer should keep her safe too, right?_

"May this new year bring love and light, lasting peace and happiness to each of them." Turning, Elrond held Ivy's gaze as he passed the candle to her. "Especially to you, my daughter."

_Oh, sweet Elbereth, he's including me as one of his children - his __Elven__ children!_ she realized with a jolt that made her heart lurch and her hands tremble. Overcome with emotion and entirely unable to speak, she stared up at him in shock. _He really means it. And - and it feels like he really does love me. But how can he do that when he doesn't even know me?_

Arching an eyebrow at the way the flame lurched and bounced, Elrond cradled her elbow with one hand and laid his other hand over hers to steady the candle. "Are you all right?"

Not trusting her voice, she could only nod. _Please don't let me say or do anything stupid and let him down._

"Would you like me to light your candles and pass the other on to Legolas?" Elrond asked.

His gentle patience nearly undid her. Shaking her head vehemently, Ivy closed her eyes against the naked affection and complete acceptance reflected in his blue eyes. The Elven lord's emotions enveloped her completely, much as Aragorn's had, and she struggled to separate her own feelings from the intensity of his.

_Elbereth, please!_ she sent her own, desperate prayer to the presence she still felt filling the room.

Leaning down, Elrond murmured, "Daughter, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. It's just...what I'm feeling right now is enormous, and it's really getting to me," she whispered back. "I'm sorry. Everybody's being really nice, and this ceremony is...it feels really intense."

Her voice broke despite her best interests. Bowing her head and closing her eyes, she struggled on. "Is there some way to back off what I'm feeling, so I don't embarrass us both?"

"I believe so. Breathe for me."

His broad hand rubbed the small of her back as Ivy drew a deep breath. Peace radiated outward from that warm, gentle touch, and the deep emotion Ivy was feeling retreated like mist over water, leaving a warm glow of happiness in its wake.

"Better?"

Nodding, she opened her eyes. "Thank you."

Turning to the chandelier, she drew another deep breath and struggled to hold her candle steady. _It's your turn, do not screw this up._ Her hand was still trembling when Legolas leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"Be sure to mind your hair and sleeves, if you will."

Grateful for the warning, she nodded, shoved back her hair with one hand, and made sure to light the candle on the inner ring first. _Best get all of them out of the way first thing._

If any of the Eldar were impatient for her to move on with the evening, they were hiding it well. _Even Erestor's hiding it well._

Glancing around the circle of Elves, Ivy barely noticed Legolas lifting the candle from between her stiff fingers. She was much more interested in the soft light radiating from far more than the candles.

"Oh, look!" she blurted, clutching Elrond's arm. "All of you are glowing, and it's so beautiful!"

Everyone burst out laughing, and Ivy blushed to the roots of her hair. Mortified, she bowed her head once more. _I can't believe I said that. Of all things, why did I say that?_

"Come now, Ivy," Glorfindel called over the ongoing laughter. "Whatever you planned to say, I'm sure that wasn't it?"

"You're right," she muttered as the laughter lessened. "Can I have a do-over?"

Legolas nudged her shoulder companionably with his own. "It was an honest observation."

"Yeah, it was," said Tamurile, "and you're right. We are glowing." Holding out her hands, she examined the soft luminescence around her fingers. "We forget sometimes, you know?"

"And, sometimes, we forget how," said Glorfindel. "But you are glowing, too."

"Me?" Ivy said, incredulous. "No way. I've never glowed in my life."

"It's very soft, but you must trust that it's there," said Elrond.

_Yeah, right._ "Okay." She sighed. "So do I get a do-over?"

"No," said Erestor, leaning out from Elrond's far side to scowl at her. "You get a continue-please."

She knew a none-too-subtle warning when she heard it. _Never argue with a hungry Elven chef_.

"So, um...I just want to thank all of you for being real. Really real, and not fake Elves or wannabes. Thanks for being in this world. And for letting me share it with you tonight."

That drew a dimpled grin from Legolas and a murmur of agreement from around the circle. "It is our pleasure."

Ivy nodded awkwardly. "Thanks. And I'm done."

A still-smiling Elrond held out his hand for her to take it once more.

_Yeah, well, they're all still smiling,_ she noticed. _Except for Erestor. Okay, so I didn't do as badly as I could have, but it wasn't great either. Maybe if they keep springing these impromptu things on me, I'll get better with some practice?_

Lighting the last three candles, Legolas then blew out his own. Laying it on the table, he took Ivy's other hand, only to lift their hands overhead as Elrond and the others did the same.

"And so, Elbereth," Legolas said, "we remind ourselves this night that the darkness outside is nothing so long as we share the light."

"In light and love," everyone murmured, and Ivy did the same, if a little belatedly.

Lowering their hands, everyone stepped back from the chandelier. Returning to the winch, Legolas and Glorfindel released the chain to set about lifting the great, burning chandelier back to its place, high above the table.

The ceremonial circle broke up as everyone drifted toward the buffet and went back to talking amongst themselves. Ignoring them, Ivy stood entranced to watch the blazing circle of light rise, spreading a warm glow over the room that dispelled every shadow.

_Even woven-Aragorn looks happier,_ she decided. Ivy also knew she had a daffy smile on her face, but couldn't squelch it to save her soul.

"What are you thinking?" asked Elrond, still standing beside her.

"That this is, without doubt, the most magical night of my life. And you say I'm glowing like an Elf." She spared him a delighted grin. "How wicked cool can one night get?"


	40. Chapter 40

**CHAPTER 40**

Haldir began uncorking the bottles of wine on the table while Tamurile grabbed Alasse by the sleeve and tugged her toward the buffet table.

"Let me get Julien his plate first?" Wendy begged.

Tamurile rolled her eyes. "Oh, do forgive me. How could I have forgotten poor Julien? By all means--" She swept an arm toward the laden tables. "Feed the whinging baby first."

Others murmured agreement as they lined up for their turn at the buffet. All seemed quite content that Julien was not joining them this night, though Ivy was certain her relief surpassed everyone else's. With Elrond in front of her, Erestor at her back, and the promise of no Julien at all, she relaxed and was contented to listen to the idle conversation surrounding her.

"You've truly outdone yourself, Erestor," said Verce from further down the line. "Everything smells divine."

"And the room is actually warm," said Alasse.

Tamurile snorted. "Given the size of that ongoing bonfire in the corner, I doubt it would dare get cold." Standing on tiptoe near the end of the line, she tried to see the food spread out on the sideboard. "Wendy and Haldir are certainly taking her time, aren't they? I can't see anything, and the smells are sheer torture."

"Would you like me to toss you a dinner roll?" asked Erestor. "Or a bit of cheese? We brought much from Warra."

"You'd think Lairg couldn't provide its own dairy products," Legolas groused from the end of the line.

"I don't care where the happy cows came from. Pass me that cheese," Tam begged in mock desperation. "Famished back here. Growing faint...."

Elrond thrust a napkin into Ivy's hands that contained the promised cheese. She in turn passed it to Erestor, only to watch it walk its way down to the supposedly swooning Elf. A grinning Legolas stood behind Tamurile with his arms held wide, apparently ready to catch her should her knees actually buckle.

_The host eats last,_ Ivy contemplated, feeling a twinge of regret she wasn't back there with him.

"Lovely, lovely cheese," she purred as she received her bit of sustenance. "Almost as good as the Wensleydale."

"Almost?" Legolas bristled, but was ignored.

"What else is on the menu?" demanded Tamurile.

"Prime rib - also from Warra - and rabbit from Lairg," the chef dutifully relayed. "You requested sweet baby carrots and twice-baked potatoes, so they're up there, too."

"Oh, goodie! That's what I wanted to hear." Darting up the line, she gave Erestor a quick peck on the cheek. "You're absolutely fab."

"Glad to hear it. Don't do that again," he growled, swiping at his cheek.

"What, no roasted boar or swan?" asked Glorfindel. "No one consulted _me _about menu preferences. How is it that Tam gets all of her favorites, and I get none?"

"Boar and swan?" Ivy repeated.

"Sounds like the name of a pub, doesn't it?" said Glorfindel.

"Or a band. Please tell me you're joking about eating it?"

"He is not," said Tamurile, still hovering out of line. "Both were on the table a hundred fifty years ago, but the wild boar are all gone, and only the Queen of England is allowed to eat swans now."

"That applies only to certain parts of the Thames." Legolas wandered up to join the conversation. "Swans proved difficult to domesticate in Ithilien, and the wild ones are far too rare to kill."

"Personally, I'm not sorry. Swan is just dreadful. Greasy and far too gamey." Tamurile wrinkled her nose at the memory.

Legolas nodded in agreement "Rabbit and chicken are imminently more practical. To eat, that is. And I should like to point out that the fresh apple cider is also from here."

"Buckets of applause for the provider in Ithilien," answered Erestor. "It makes one less thing to ship from Warra."

"It's very good cider," said Legolas, sounding mildly hurt.

"I'm sure I'll like it," Ivy jumped in, "because I've never had anything like it before. Everything we get is homogenized and pasteurized and reconstituted and really, not very appley by the time they get done with it."

"Then you certainly must have some of ours while you are here."

"I will, and thank you. And with it, I'd like Diet Coke. Is there any left?" asked Ivy.

"I brought out enough for Legolas," said Erestor. "You father requested fresh milk for you."

"Oh. Great." _What am I? Ten years old and can't hold my caffeine?_

Turning slightly at her tone, Elrond locked his gaze into Ivy's. "There is the cider you were praising only moments ago."

"No, no. Milk's fine. And cider after that." _I wouldn't argue in a million years with the look he's giving me._

"Sweet Elbereth," said Haldir as Wendy finally left the buffet line. "Two plates? I've never seen you eat like that."

"You can't seriously think this is all for me!" She waved the plates about. "Did you not hear me say I was taking something up for Julien? I don't want him coming down here tonight looking for seconds. Hence, all the food."

Tamurile danced up to Legolas. "I simply love how you broke his nose, just like that!" Swinging her arm wildly, she mimed the fierce backhand that had laid Julien low and caused Legolas to lean away to avoid being slapped.

"It was my pleasure," he deadpanned.

"How is Julein?" asked Verce.

"Oh, he looks horrible! _Horrible!_" Wendy hissed. "Not the least bit Elven any more! His nose is all swollen and funny-shaped, and his eyes are going all black, like a raccoon's. It's just awful," she added with a giggle.

"Wendy is right," said Elrond. "Glorfindel and I looked in on him earlier when the electrics went out. The bleeding has slowed, but both his eyes are going bruised. I believe his nose is broken in three places."

"Totally smashed," Glorfindel added cheerfully.

Tamurile beamed. "Oh, well done, Legolas!"

"No effort at all," he dissembled, but added a bit of a bow and a shy smile.

"It will be at least forty-five days before a physician can properly evaluate the injury, as the swelling must ease first," Elrond continued, "but I have packed Julien's nose with wet gauze. Tomorrow morning, I will try to straighten his nasal bridge and septum."

"You don't want to wait for the swelling to go down?" Legolas asked.

Elrond turned his way. "Did I wait when that stallion threw his head and broke your nose?"

"No."

"Nor will I wait now. We must get the bones back into their approximate places as soon as possible. The final correction will be left to the surgeon."

"You have the proper equipment with you to fix his nose?" asked Glorfindel. "I didn't think you traveled with such things anymore. And what about some sort of anesthetic?"

"I have neither," replied Elrond in a tone so offhanded that it startled Ivy. Concern for the comfort of his patient did not seem to be this healer's top priority. "There is a generous assortment of table knives in the kitchen, and Julien may have one to bite down on if the pain is too much. I can find other implements that are approximately the correct shape for levering the bone fragments about, so we shall simply work with what we have on hand."

Ivy winced. "This really sounds painful. Like something the Inquisition would do."

"Does it?" Elrond's voice was eerily calm. "I am attempting to help Julien, for delaying treatment will not serve him in the slightest. If he refuses to let me reset his nose, he is free to seek reconstructive surgery later."

Ivy looked up at him. "Would that be any less painful?"

"No. Surgery on noses is always extremely painful."

"Good," murmured Legolas.

"So that's settled." Turning back to Haldir, Wendy gestured with a plate. "Do you have a bottle of something very strong that I might take up to my brother? He wants his ruffled feathers soothed."

"Of course. The Vinotemp in here is empty, but I believe the one in the kitchen has been restocked. Wine or stronger spirits, do you think?" Haldir headed toward the door closest to the kitchen.

"Oh, the stronger the better." Wendy trailed after him. "And there should be lots of it."

"I am willing to sacrifice a bottle of twenty-year-old, biting scotch if you think that will do?"

"Is it very strong?"

"Very. But deceptively so when one drinks it."

"Oh, that sounds perfect. Let's put the baby to bed, please?"

Laughter followed them as they left the hall, and the buffet line moved much more quickly with Wendy gone. Waiting for Ivy as she finished making her selections, Elrond then escorted her to the table. Taking his place at its head, he indicated she should have the seat on his right.

"Daughter."

He stepped closer, and she quickly slid into the chair, half afraid he was wanting to hold it for her. If Elrond intended what to Ivy was an awkward and unfamiliar courtesy, she made certain her behind was in the chair and scooted it forward before he could lay hands on the thing. Smiling up at him in satisfaction and no small relief, she watched as he moved back to his own seat.

Glorfindel took the chair opposite hers, and Legolas claimed the one beside Ivy and next to Erestor, which suited Ivy just fine. Joining them within minutes, Haldir seated himself across the table, beside Glorfindel. The ellith made up the rest of the party, with Alasse placing a glass of red wine at the empty setting that Ivy assumed was for Wendy when she returned.

Bemused at the seating arrangements, Ivy touched Elrond's hand. "I see what you've done here."

"Done, where? What have I done?"

"How neatly you've surrounded me with three - no, make that five - Elven warriors," she amended to include Erestor and Haldir.

The warriors in question were clearly eavesdropping, and Elrond's warm smile made the corners of his eyes crinkle. "I did not realize we were being so obvious."

"Just a little," she teased. "But I don't understand why you think it's necessary since Julien's lying all broken upstairs."

"It's always best to be prepared." Legolas helped himself to a handful of nuts and dried figs from the large bowl at the center of the table before pushing it toward Ivy and the others.

"Prepared for what? Julien sneaking down and bleeding on us? Whining at us?"

"For anything," said Legolas. "He has strange ideas and even stranger timing."

Glorfindel shrugged. "It's a strategic habit, Ivy. Humor the ancient Elven warriors." Holding up a fig, he examined it in the candlelight. "As a new student of all things Elven, you may be interested in knowing that dried figs are a special treat for us. The twins originally brought these little delicacies from the Middle East into Scotland, and I remember the day when Legolas first tried one. He thought he'd never tasted anything so good." Looking across at his son, he grinned. "Do you remember that day?"

"I do. Erestor tucked some into my satchel before you and I left for a hunt. I ate my first fig sitting in an oak tree, waiting for the deer to come."

"As I recall," said Glorfindel, "your raptures frightened away the deer, so we brought back rabbits instead." He flung out his hand to salute the now-embarrassed Elf. "My son, the mighty distracted hunter."

"That morning, at least." Legolas was suddenly very interested in his plate, and even Erestor joined in the subsequent laughter.

"Oh, this is heaven," Ivy murmured, savoring the succulent prime rib that Warra's fierce chef had prepared. "I swear, I've never tasted anything so good as this."

Erestor beamed at her. "I thank you for the compliment, little one."

"Now you've gone and done it," said Haldir.

"Done what?" asked Ivy.

"Ensured he'll feed you only the best while you're in Warra."

"That, I will," said Erestor.

"Gee, won't that be a terrible thing to endure?" Reaching across Legolas, who had yet to recover from his embarrassment and begin eating, Ivy dared pat Erestor on the arm. "I'm really looking forward to sampling more of your goodies."

There was a momentary lull in the conversation as all savored the midwinter feast, until Ivy looked up from her dinner to find the former marchwarden of Lothlorian.

"Haldir," said Ivy. "The tapestries are wonderful. Thanks so much for going to the trouble of digging them out."

"You are certainly welcome." He beamed at her. "We've not had them up in literally ages, and after our discussion earlier I thought you might enjoy seeing them. You're the first Queen's Daughter who's cared what few Elven marvels might remain here in Lairg Castle. Besides which, they greatly help warm the room when it's cold." He looked at Legolas. "Did you give her a proper guided tour of them?"

"If I had, we'd still be at it. They do, after all, span hundreds of years. Besides which, this Queen's Daughter proved herself particularly susceptible to the collective emotion and memories contained in them."

There was an air about the way this information was imparted that gave Ivy the feeling that something significant was contained within that remark. That nasty feeling of uncertainty returned as she tried to figure out if she'd done something wrong. Again.

_This is starting to become a really annoying sort of habit here,_ she thought, as the frown on Elrond's face did little to reassure her_. What did I manage to do this time? _

Setting down his fork, Elrond looked at Legolas. "Susceptible, how?"

"Perhaps Ivy might explain?"

_Oh, yeah, put me in the hot seat again. What is it with these Elves?_ "It was nothing. Really."

Elrond was having none of it. "Ivy, what happened when you looked at the tapestries?"

"I don't know if I can explain, because it's nothing I've ever felt before. It was just kind of...big."

"Please do try to explain, if you will."

"I don't really have words for it. I...um...okay, it felt like I sort of fell into them. Like you'd fall into a lake or swimming pool. You know, more there than here?"

"Like being immersed in them?" Glorfindel ventured.

"Yeah. In over my head would be a good description." _Kinda like now, only different._

"It was strongest when she looked at the panel containing Aragorn and our collective Elven memories of him," Legolas relayed. "I have warned her not to explore the tapestries again - or, indeed, any Elven artwork - without a guide."

With that, every Elf on her side of the table stopped eating and exchanged silent glances.

"Did I do something wrong?" Ivy asked.

"Not at all," Elrond said immediately. "Your reaction is understandable as you are directly related to Aragorn. You've also never been exposed to any of our art before. Had you grown up with it, you would already have learned how to separate your emotions from those embedded in it, and how to control your reactions to it."

"Elrond, are you aware that Ivy has already been weaving emotions into her horse paintings? said Legolas.

"Yes, indeed." The Elf-lord's expression spoke of pride, which only served to confuse Ivy further.

"I've done what?"

"Where did you encounter her work?" Elrond asked Legolas.

"I showed him Ivy's website the day he arrived," said Haldir.

"Hey, still here, Elven people," Ivy interrupted. "What did I do? And how do you know about my website?"

Feeling more bewildered by the minute as the conversation evolved around her, Ivy glanced from Elf to Elf, all of whom were looking more than a bit amused at her expense. "Okay, it's time to confess, guys. How many of you have been watching me without my knowing it?"

"Oh, let me see," said Haldir brightly, in that tone she was coming to recognize as preceding much detailed information. "You know of Dan and myself. Elrond, didn't Ivy's violin teacher relay information to you from Montana?"

"He did," Elrond confirmed. "And her neighbor in San Francisco, as well."

"Oh, please tell me it's not Mrs. Agnes from across the street? That crazy lady who is always peeking at me through her blinds? You can't tell me _that_ creepy little woman is an _Elf!"_

They all laughed at her dismay.

"No, it was another neighbor," said Haldir. "You don't know them, I'm sure, they're quite discreet. The rest of your watchers are an odd assortment of various, unseen guardians who escorted you over the years, to and from school and on your adventures about the town. Rain or shine."

Her eyes grew wide at the news, and she shivered. "I had _stalkers_?"

"Not stalkers," assured Elrond. "Protectors. There is a very great difference."

She shook her head. "Not seeing it."

"Stalkers act on their own, with their own agendas which are usually unpleasant in the end," said Elrond. "Guardians act under my instruction and are there to protect you from dangers - including stalkers, should they happen into your life. Large cities are not the safest of places for little girls, and San Francisco is no exception."

"I wasn't a little girl when we moved there, and I would have been fine on my own!" she protested. "I _was_ fine on my own."

"You were, with their help," Elrond agreed, "and I thank Elbereth for that."

"Not to mention thanking the retinue of Elves he had watching you," said Glorfindel. "You mustn't think badly of him, Ivy. Your father means well, and he's not singling you out for this treatment if it makes you feel any better. Given half the chance, Lord Elrond takes over everyone's life."

"I did _not_ take over her life!" the Elf-lord snapped. "You know very well that Marian refused to protect her child from the dangers inherent in the Mortal world. I am sure your son would have assigned the same guards, had he not been away in Alaska. It is not as though I appeared on Ivy's doorstep, swept a black hood over her head, and carted her off to Warra."

Glorfindel grinned. "I know of numerous times when you wanted to. I heard your fretting, remember?"

"There were times I wish you had carried me off," Ivy muttered.

"There, you see? She not only needed us, she would have welcomed us. And now, she has welcomed all of us into her life. So let there be no talk of my taking over her life."

"No, that'll come later," quipped Glorfindel.

"Daro i!" Elrond commanded. _Stop now._

Flinching at his fierce tone, Ivy chewed her lip and stared at her plate. Leaning surreptitiously against her, Legolas slipped his hand beneath the table to find hers and squeeze it, much as he had done earlier upstairs during the final moments of the board meeting. His thumb caressed the back of her hand.

"Are you all right?" he murmured.

"Fine. I mean, he's not yelling at me this time, is he?" she whispered back. "But it's _about_ me, which isn't much better. I don't think he has much of a sense of humor where I'm concerned."

She could feel Elrond's gaze on them, yet hadn't the nerve to lift her head and meet whatever disapproval those grey eyes might contain.

"I enjoyed seeing the artwork on your website." Legolas spoke loudly enough for all to hear, and in a voice so smooth that Ivy had a sudden glimpse of the diplomacy necessary to handle Greenwood's subsidiaries, not to mention Greenwood's own volatile Elven officials. "I believe I reacted to your Shadowfax much as you reacted to Aragorn."

Stunned, she lifted her head. "You did?"

A brief nod, and the reassurance in his warm blue eyes held her every bit as tightly as his hand still held hers.

"Shadowfax easily drew me into his presence," said Legolas, "I felt as though I were running with him on his beach."

"And so you learned our Ivy is as capable as any Elven artist to layer emotions into her art, and you were touched by it?" Elrond sounded far calmer than before, and lifted his wine glass in a brief salute. "Such sensitivity only proves once more to me that you belong among us."

"Because I cried over a woven panel featuring Aragorn?"

Elrond smiled and nodded.

"If the scene featured me," muttered Glorfindel to his own glass of wine, apparently still annoyed by Elrond's snapping, "I doubt it would have moved you to tears."

"That depends on if you looked absolutely miserable in it like Aragorn does in his," she remarked.

"Miserable?" Elrond pursued.

"Yes. I mean, look at Aragorn." She gestured shortly toward the tapestry. "Can't you feel it? He isn't wearing a crown, and didn't he want to be remembered as a ranger and not as king? Wasn't he sick at heart with having to be king? And you--" She turned to Legolas. "You're not standing beside him as Lord of Ithilien, are you? You're standing beside him as his friend, like you did all the way to the Black Gate."

"The way he is still doing now?" asked Glorfindel.

"Yeah, exactly," Ivy agreed. "You trusted each other, and Aragorn loved being with you a lot more than he liked being King of Gondor."

"She is right," Legolas said softly. "She is correct in all of it."

"Yes, she is." Elrond considered Ivy for so long a moment, she squirmed under his scrutiny. "Once in Warra, I believe we must devote some time to teaching you how to shield yourself from absorbing too many Elven emotions, whether they are contained in our art and music or...how do you say it?...in real time."

"Sounds good to me," she grumbled. "Are these sorts of emotions woven into everything Elves do?"

"It's not woven into my prime rib," said Erestor.

Haldir snorted. "I should hope not, as I believe Ivy already feels she's been force-fed something she didn't ask for this night."

"I love your prime rib, and it makes me happy," she assured Erestor, "and I think you were happy when you were cooking for us, so I'm sure what you felt is in there, too. But Haldir is right, in a way. Part of me is resenting duties that I don't think were ever mine, and...and I want to go play in some moonlit meadow, which is something I don't understand at all."

"Aragorn and I hunted by moonlight throughout the summer and fall," said Legolas. "He enjoyed the peace of the night, the silence between us, and falling asleep to the song of crickets. Gondor offered none of that."

"You picked up on all those things just by looking at a tapestry?" Glorfindel whistled low. "Elrond, if your new daughter's that sensitive, you're going to have your hands full teaching her to shield herself."

"I am well aware of that."

"I don't want to block all of it," Ivy protested, "because I think you're right - I've always tried to merge somehow with the horses I paint. To feel what they feel and transfer it to the canvas. I didn't know I was doing some Elven thing; it's just how I work. And I need to keep doing that. If I can't look into their eyes and know them like I did with Aragorn, how am I supposed to paint?"

Elrond patted her hand. "Never fear, we will teach you to channel and control what you feel. Not to dam it up completely. All little Elves must learn this as they grow up."

She nodded in response and put the 'little Elves' comment aside to examine later, as she had more pressing concerns at the moment. "I take pictures sometimes and make preliminary drawings from them, so does this Elven emotion thing work with photography, too?"

"It does not," said Elrond. "It works only on that which we create with our voice, intellect, or touch."

"Song, writings or art," Glorfindel clarified, "and variations thereof."

"We cannot saturate mechanisms such as cameras - whether they use film or pixels - with emotion or memory. And so, a photograph is only a photograph. A mere image of reality created through machinery and chemicals. It may evoke emotions in the viewer, but it cannot store those of the creator."

"What if an Elf takes an image into a computer program and manipulates it? Does it get layered emotionally and transmitted then?"

Elrond shook his head. "The transference works only when an Elf acts upon the medium that becomes the message. In the example you have put forth, the emotions and the art are being filtered through a mortal machine or mechanism. A keyboard or mouse or some other device - not to mention a computer - is set between the Elven artist and their creation, and the transfer of emotions is blocked. Do you understand?"

"I think so. You have to channel your emotions into whatever you're working on, so it only works if you're touching or interacting with the art in some way?"

"Exactly," said Elrond while the others nodded their agreement. "Though I must admit to becoming quite emotional upon seeing a photo of you after you were born."

"You...what? You saw a baby picture? Why would that make you emotional?"

Hesitating a moment, Elrond looked away. "That is a discussion for another time, I think."

"Elrond was so frantic to see you," said Glorfindel, "your first watcher's assignment was to go to the hospital and take a picture of you in the nursery. That photo's still on his desk in Warra."

"Why send someone? Why not just ask my mother for a copy of the hospital photo?"

Elrond looked back at Ivy, but did not reply.

"Are you saying Mom wouldn't send you one?" she demanded.

"Marian never sent him anything, nor would she discuss you at all when she was with us here in Lairg," Glorfindel said quietly. "As far as your mother was concerned, you were not to exist to Elrond any more than he existed to you. She never so much as mentioned your name. Hence, the stalkers."

"I'm so sorry," she said to Elrond, and meant it. "My mother's not here anymore, though. We're finally face to face, and she has no say in the matter anymore. We can make up for lost time now, right?"

Elrond's eyes were filled with a deep sadness. "I hope so."

"It'll be okay. You'll see," she tried again. _Anything to make him smile, or at least stop looking like that. _"You know I'm really looking forward to seeing Warra and meeting your artisans and learning whatever you're willing to teach me."

"There are plenty of them to meet," said Elrond, "and I've no doubt they are eager to meet you as well."

"Voice an interest in something - anything," said Erestor. "We guarantee someone will be about to help you learn it."

"Yes, they will." Forcing a smile, Elrond returned to his meal.


	41. Chapter 41

**CHAPTER 41**

Stalking into the room, Wendy went to the sideboard, got her own plate, and sat with the ellith, who seemed determined to ignore Ivy and the rocky conversation on the other end of the table. Taking a great gulp of wine, Wendy she shuddered slightly before settling down to eat.

"How is Julien?" Elrond called down the table.

"Sulking." Wendy cut up her prime rib with a vengeance. "He says his looks are ruined, probably permanently, and he's whinging about having to sit alone in the dark, as though we're forcing him to do so. He's saving the wine for later and swears you're spiking it with some diabolical drug, but he doesn't care because his face hurts and it'll let him sleep. And Legolas is the embodiment of evil, and an unbelievably poor host."

"I do try," Legolas replied.

Sighing, Wendy took another sip of wine and waved about her goblet. "It's so hard having Julien for a brother."

"And why is that?" asked Haldir. "I know he's difficult, but what specifically prompted that comment? Other than his turning on you without the slightest warning as he did earlier today?"

"As the t-shirt reads..." Grimacing, Wendy saluted her absent tormentor. "He smiles because I'm his sister. He laughs because there's nothing I can do about it. But since he's decided to deprive us of his wonderful presence, we can have a lovely meal now."

Forcing a smile, she waved her fork in some sort of invocation. "We shall now stop talking about my brother and enjoy the night, the lovely food and drink, and the company."

"Agreed," answered Verce, refilling Wendy's near-empty goblet.

"Oh, I don't know." Tamurile sighed. "I'm feeling very deprived by Julien's isolating himself that way." Pouting dramatically for a moment, she grinned. "_Not!_ I think this is the start of a wonderful year. Oh, Wendy, you must try the potatoes. Erestor has outdone himself by melting some lovely cheese in them."

"Elrond?" Haldir said low after the ellith began chattering once more among themselves. "Might you have a sedative waiting for Julien the night of the ceilidh?"

"I had already thought of that, yes. I refuse to allow him to disrupt anything else."

"Are you and your father still planning the ceilidh?" Erestor asked Legolas.

"No, we're done. We finished earlier this afternoon."

"So when do you plan on delivering the menu and attendance numbers?" Erestor pursued. "Tonight sees the last of the beef, though there's plenty else for the ceilidh. I have my own planning and cooking to do, you know?"

"He knows," Glorfindel inserted. "You say this every year, and we run out of meat at the same time every year, so how could he not know?"

"He's been gone for awhile, he might have forgotten."

"I'll see to it tomorrow," said Legolas.

Glorfindel pointed his fork at his son. "I saw to it earlier that the horses are all fed and bedded for the night. The lad down the hill who usually feeds twice a day called to say the snow was a bit much for him and asked if I could take over for him."

"I don't blame him," said Legolas. "It's still snowing heavily and it would be a long, icy hike for him."

"I'm well aware of how it's snowing," said Glorfindel, "as I'm the one who went out in it for you. It should clear by morning, so it will be that much easier for you to tend to them."

"Oh?" Legolas arched an eyebrow. "I'm feeding?"

"Why not? It's your turn and they're your horses, aren't they?"

"For the moment," Legolas muttered, dropping his gaze to his plate.

Glorfindel abruptly decided that eating his own dinner required all of his attention.

"For the moment?" Ivy ventured as Elrond began conversing softly with Glorfindel in Sindarin.

"Each December, Elrond takes half of my yearlings back to Warra with him," Legolas explained.

"At the time Legolas left for Alaska, Elrond would hire a few lads down the hill to drive them into Edinburgh to take shipping to Sidney from there," said Haldir. "We'd then drive them down to Warra. Nowadays, Elrond brings a great, noisy jetliner in over the loch, loads up the yearlings, and flies them away like a proper, modern robber-baron."

"I am not a robber-baron," Elrond objected. "My taking the yearlings is a business arrangement of long standing, agreed upon by all parties."

"But why?" asked Ivy.

"It's part of a very old debt," Legolas said mildly.

"It's because Legolas has a habit of opening gates he shouldn't," said Elrond, less mildly.

"I do not. It was only one gate, and a very long time ago."

"And the Valar made him do it," says Glorfindel.

"Yes, I've heard that excuse many times over the years, but that isn't the issue, is it?"

Setting down her fork with a clatter, Ivy leaned back in her chair. "Okay, color me confused. Again."

"As an Elfling growing up in Imladris, I opened a gate," Legolas explained. "This resulted in a breeding between a stallion and a mare that Elrond did not approve of. My actions indebted me to him."

"But that was thousands of years ago. Adar is still exacting payment?"

"Oh, yes."

"Because you opened one gate?"

"As I said, the opening of the gate isn't the issue," said Elrond. "It is because Legolas disobeyed and deceived me. He suggested the breeding, and I forbade it. Not only did he then go behind my back to facilitate that breeding - yes, ostensibly for the Valar--" Elrond held up a hand to ward of Glorfindel's protests. "Legolas also failed to confess what he had done, regardless he had eleven long months while the mare was in foal, and he could have made that confession easily.

"By opening 'only one gate,' Legolas put my reputation as a breeder of horses at risk," Elrond continued. "He also attempted to taint the purity of my horses' bloodlines and the accuracy of my breeding registry. Had the product of this wretched coupling been born grey or chestnut rather than black, I would not have discovered his treachery. The integrity of my stables would have been permanently ruined, and that is exactly what he intended."

"That is not what I intended, and you know it."

"Do I?"

Ignoring Elrond, Legolas concentrated on Ivy. "I believe my sabbatical has only served to reinforce your father's claim."

"My claim needed no reinforcement."

"It must shatter you to have to give them up every year," Ivy sympathized and braced for Elrond's explosion. When it didn't come, she stole a glance at the Elf-lord, who seemed to be seething where he sat.

"The hooved friends I had are all gone," Legolas pointed out. "My father bred the horses we have now, so they are mine only in name. I am only just acquainting myself with them, and we have always bred more than is needed. So, truth to tell, I do not mind the payment. Your father is also more than entitled to additional payment for his efforts to keep things going while I was gone. Haldir had no idea where I had gone, and it took six months for my first letter to reach him here."

"And why is that?" Elrond snapped.

"I had to negotiate for a stamp," Legolas said mildly. "I had spent all my money getting there, you see? It was before credit cards existed, after all."

The former Lord of Imladris narrowed his eyes. "You also didn't particularly want to be found, did you?"

"No." Legolas shrugged. "A childish reaction to be sure, but it's how I felt at the time. Haldir, I apologize once again for leaving you in the lurch. I quite understand why you had to summon Lord Elrond."

"It was the best I could do at the time." The marchwarden's voice was filled with regret.

"You did well." Legolas then turned to the head of the table. "And Elrond, I apologize once more for my irresponsible behavior."

"Hmphm."

Glorfindel endeavored to draw the Elf-lord into quiet conversation, but Ivy saw the scowl of irritation aimed solely at Legolas, who still seemed unperturbed.

"Why is my father behaving as if this gate-opening business happened just last week?" she dared whisper to Legolas.

"Because it shattered the trust between us, and he hasn't trusted me since," came the quick explanation.

"How can he not trust you, when you've kept Greenwood going and everyone safe for whole millenniums?"

"Things sometimes happen between people," Legolas murmured low, "and nothing is every the same again. I long ago accepted his mistrust and that nothing I might do will ever change his mind. Regardless Elrond's feelings, I have a gift for you, if you will accept her."

"Her?" Ivy puzzled.

"There is one particular filly out in the barn," Legolas said low. "She's going to be a beauty, and she's perfect for you. May I give her to you?"

"What would I do with a yearling filly?"

"I might train her for you to ride. In a few years of course, whenever you come to visit. Or you could take her with you," he added after a glance toward Elrond.

Ivy couldn't help but be amused at his wheedling tone.

"That's really generous," she said carefully, not wanting to offend Legolas or draw the attention of the Elven volcano to her left, "but are you sure this filly isn't just someone you don't want my father to have?"

"Of course not. She is my gift to you, so why would he be upset?" Legolas pointed out. "She would belong to neither to him nor to me, so what complaint could he possibly have? We can already see that he would deny you nothing."

"What are you two talking about?" Elrond broke into the conversation.

She flashed a significant look Legolas' way. _Now you've gone and done it._ "He wants to give me a beautiful little filly."

"Why are you giving my daughter a horse she cannot ride?"

"Because she will need something to ride in the future, and the mare I have in mind will be perfect for her."

"You wish to hide the filly before I make my selection, don't you? Is she the best this year's get has to offer?"

"No, and no." Legolas' blue eyes smoldered. His temper was still under control, but Ivy thought it might not be for long.

"Why would I need to hide her from you?" he growled. "You haven't yet made your selection, so the filly is still mine to give to whoever I please."

Elrond's quick reply came in hard, sharp Sindarin. Ivy didn't bother trying to catch any of it, for the meaning was clear enough from the biting tone.

_They're going to fight, I'm sitting between them, and this one sounds serious,_ she thought. _That's just great. _

Catching Glorfindel's gaze across the table, she called over the argument that was fast become two-sided as Legolas answered in kind. "Save me?"

"Not to worry," Glorfindel called back. "They do this every year."

"Not a comfort. Or comfy!"

She apparently wasn't the only one thinking so, for Erestor rose from his place on Legolas' other side. Picking up Legolas' plate, the chef stacked it on top of his and left carrying both.

_Neat escape,_ she thought. _Wonder if he wants help clearing the table before Legolas and Elrond start breaking the crockery? Or is that why he's removing it so quickly?_

The ellith and Haldir were next. Grabbing the half-full bottles of wine, Verce and the others proceeded like goslings, two by two, out of the dining hall as the argument between the two Elves quickly escalated in strength and volume. Verce gave Ivy a smile as she left.

_Was that supposed to be reassurance or commiseration for being trapped at ground zero?_ Casting another look Glorfindel's way, she mouthed, _Do something_.

Giving a wry smile in return, the golden Elf nodded and left his chair to come round the table. Moving Ivy's chair back, he accommodated her escape and laid a hand on his son's shoulder. Murmuring something unintelligible, he urged the younger Elf to take the chair Ivy had just vacated.

Not missing a beat in the argument, Legolas slid into the empty seat. Leaning forward on one elbow, he began tapping on the table to enumerate each point, only to have Elrond throw himself backward, shake his head with much vehemence, and interrupt whatever Legolas was saying.

Retreating with Glorfindel to the desserts at the far end of the sideboard, Ivy shook her head. "I can see where joining this family can be like walking through a minefield."

"Sometimes," Glorfindel agreed. "But as I said, they have this argument every year, so it's all for naught."

"But why?"

"Because neither one is willing to concede a single point to the other. Both believe the other is wrong, and have for centuries."

"What do you think?" Ivy asked.

"I think the Valar made Legolas open that gate, so they're the ones responsible for the ensuing mayhem, not my Elfling. Legolas was, at best, only twenty years old at the time - roughly the equivalent of a ten-year-old Mortal child. Far too young to recognize or understand being compelled to do something by beings far stronger of will and greater than him."

Ivy considered that for a moment. "Why did horse breedings matter to the Valar?"

"They didn't, and they don't. That particular breeding is what mattered."

"But _why?_"

"That, my dear, is another story for a long and stormy night," he replied with a chuckle.

"More secrets?" She sighed. "Why am I not surprised?"

Observing the fight from the safety of distance, Ivy couldn't help but be glad she wasn't the one under attack by Elrond. Nor could she fail to notice how beautiful Legolas was in profile.

"You know, I've been wishing for days that I could draw him," she confessed.

"Which one?"

"Your son."

"You too?" Leaning down, he gently nudged her. "I've made childhood drawings of him. Still have them. Elven equivalent of school photos," he added with a grin.

Ivy widened her eyes. "You got him to stand still long enough to sketch him?"

Glorfindel nodded. Gesturing to illustrate the story as he went, the Elf-lord said, "I lined Legolas up against the same wall every fall and drew him. Got the same scowling expression every time, too. His hair got longer, and he got taller, but those fierce blue eyes didn't change."

Folding his arms, he considered the beautiful, glowing Elf before them who was shaking his head so hard, his hair was flying everywhere. "Those eyes are still the same."

"Are your drawings here or Oversea?"

"They're not here as in Lairg, but they aren't Oversea. They're in my rooms in Warra."

"May I see them?" she squeaked.

Glorfindel laughed. "You're not willing to wait until I invite you up to see my etchings?"

"No!"

"All right, then." He gave a decisive nod. "Remind me when we get to Warra, and I'll show them to you. But you can't tell him about it."

"Which him?"

"Legolas, of course. Why in the world would your father care if I lure you into my rooms to see my etchings?"

She belatedly realized the Golden Elf of Gondolin might be flirting with her, but that was all right. There was nothing predatory about The Legend.

"You know," she remarked, "it's kind of amusing that we can do this - stand around talking about Elrond and Legolas while the two of them are sitting right there, oblivious."

"Ah, child. Don't ever make the mistake of thinking your father is oblivious."

Ignoring the argument, which seemed to be winding down as only the occasional growl interrupted what was turning into more of a conversation, Glorfindel surveyed to the sideboard.

"Will you look at the tasty desserts Erestor has for us? And the ellith even left us some."

Attacking the shortbread, Glorfindel wandered back to the table as Legolas left it. Coming up beside Ivy, he solemnly regarded the sweets with her.

"It all looks so good, I don't know what to choose," she admitted.

"You might try mixing the chocolate cake with the baked apple crumble," he advised.

"Sounds...messy."

He shook his head emphatically. "It's superb."

"Huh."

"Now that supper is over," said Legolas, "your father has given me leave to walk you to your room. We might gather our desserts and retire there, if you like. To talk."

Whirling, she stared up at him in disbelief. "Adar's agreed to let you talk to me? In my room? In the dark?"

"I assume so, as the lights are still out."

She wasn't certain, but she thought he was laughing at her.

_This is too good to be true,_ she thought_. I'll bet you anything that my father will show up to decree it's past my bedtime, and Legolas will have to leave while my father offers to tuck me in. _

More than a little suspicious, she asked, "Where did Haldir and the girls go?"

"Hmm?" Legolas pulled his attention back from the apple crumble he was piling onto his plate. "Back to the screening room, I believe. He has laid in a great many films for them. If you don't want me--"

"I do!" she hissed. "It's just...only a few minutes ago, you were worried my father would kill you for hugging me. But now it's all right for you and me to be left alone in my bedroom?"

"Elrond knows I am no threat to you. And I am on my way to retire, as well."

_Yeah, right. What the hell is going on?_ Still, she wasn't willing to examine this miracle too closely, for fear it would dissolve for the looking. _If Legolas wants to walk me up to my room and talk while we eat dessert, that's fine with me. But I'm locking my door, and we're not answering if Elrond comes to call. He'll just have to break it down. _

_And he will_, another part of her warned.

_Yeah, well..._ There was no time to ponder the weirdness of the night, just as there had been no time to ponder the weirdness of the entire week. _So far._

Pouring herself a glass of milk from the pitcher provided, Ivy took Legolas' advice and combined a slice of chocolate cake with the apple crumble.

"Eat dessert first, for Elven Lords are unpredictable and quick to anger," she muttered.

"That we are," Legolas agreed.


	42. Chapter 42

**CHAPTER 42**

Legolas continued to prowl the length of the desserts, searching for a specific treat while surreptitiously watching Ivy. She was waiting with her slice of cake at the end of the sideboard, evidently for him to finish up so they might go upstairs. As he finally found the cheddar wedges, which he dumped atop his apple crumble, he noticed a very wide yawn coming from their young guest.

_She does look weary,_ he thought. _Even in the candlelight, I can see dark circles beneath her eyes. As they are no doubt still beneath my own._

Moving to stand beside her, he asked, "Would you like some milk to go with your cake?"

Ivy took a moment to recover from the half-doze she'd assumed while waiting for him, and nodded.

He poured her a glassful. "Are you awake enough to carry this?"

"What?" She blinked at him and stifled another yawn. "Of course."

"Come, then. Let us go to your room." Handing her the glass, he also placed a fork on her plate. "Glorfindel has already lit the wall sconces, so we needn't bother with candles."

"Good thing, 'cause our hands are full." Ivy gestured with plate and glass and gave a shy smile. She had chocolate smudged along the edge of one fingernail - fair evidence that she'd already been sampling some of the cake - and Legolas couldn't help but smile in answer.

Leading the way across the room, he paused beside Elrond to take their leave.

"Look after her, and keep me advised," Elrond requested in Sindarin after exchanging good-nights.

"Always," said Legolas.

Glorfindel nodded his good-night and bestowed a most serious look on both his son and Ivy. Legolas bowed slightly in acknowledgement, though he wasn't sure whether his father's sober expression was a warning to keep Ivy safe or to avoid anything that might set Elrond off. The girl was too absorbed in picking at the icing on her cake to notice.

_Or too tired to care,_ Legolas noted. _We have abused her good nature too far this week._

Ivy trailed silently after him out of the hall and down the corridor. The darker it got, the closer she seemed to creep until her arm was in solid contact with his by the time they reached the base of the shadow-laden stairs leading up to the second floor.

"Please try not to worry," he murmured. "Julien will not cause you any further problems tonight."

"Oh, I know." The false courage reflected in her voice didn't make her leave off leaning against him. "He's all bruised up and feeling sorry for himself and not accepting visitors. As if anyone would want to visit him."

"Julien is no fit company on any night, so I doubt he's at his best right now. He's either moaning and complaining or sodding drunk, which is really a disgusting thing to behold. And on Haldir's good Scotch malt, too. What a waste. Ah, here we are." Legolas interrupted himself, pushing open the door to her room. "In you go."

"It's really dark in there," Ivy protested, refusing to budge from where she stood.

"My apologies." He neatly removed the plate from her hand and moved into the chamber as the darkness gave his Elven eyes no difficulty at all. The plates set safely on the table, Legolas reached back to catch Ivy's hand and pull her into the room with him. Shutting the door behind her, he took an extra moment to secure the lock.

"If you'll sit on the bed," he said, setting his hands on her shoulders so as not to alarm her as he slid past, "I'll see to the fire and some candles for you."

"And the bed is where, exactly? It's like the inside of a coal bin in here."

"Two steps back, then sit."

"You'd better be right because my landing on the floor with a glass of milk will not make Haldir happy. Sour carpet is nasty."

Legolas couldn't help but laugh. _She worries about the oddest things._

"I'll take the milk." His hand closed securely around the glass. "There now, let go."

She did, but didn't move otherwise.

"I promise you will not end up on the floor," he reassured, moving past her to find the bedside table and set the milk safely on it. "Take two steps backward, and you will feel the foot of the bed against your legs."

"That's great, but what if Julien's lurking somewhere in here?"

"He is not." Legolas came up beside her once more.

"How can you be so sure?"

"If he were here, I would hear him breathing as his nose and sinuses are seriously compromised at the moment. He would be snorting and snuffling like a French bulldog."

"Oh. Right." Legolas heard her step backward and sink onto the bed, and then she giggled. Apparently her tired brain had processed the image of Julien with bat ears. "He certainly does have the flattened nose tonight."

Moving to the fireplace, Legolas laid the fire and groped for the kindling in its box. Settling the wood behind the grate, he encountered the ashy remains of the last fire. There was no housekeeping to speak of with Bridie banished, and the firebox wanted sweeping, but the bedroom was dark and chill. Judging from Ivy's tone of voice, she was not enjoying being isolated in the darkness, so Legolas merely shoved the ashes to the back in favor of speed.

It took only a moment for the kindling to catch, and a small blaze began in earnest. Glancing over his shoulder, Legolas caught his charge watching him intently.

_Having light and heat again should reassure her somewhat. _Poking his tiny fire, Legolas judged it a success as the edge of the first old oak log caught, and a true blaze began. Within moments, the room was bathed in a golden glow and had a more cheerful look about it.

He dusted his hands free of the ash before wiping them on his jeans. Reaching gingerly into the firebox, he then collected a sliver of burning bark and moved to light the fat candle in the wall sconce, which improved the lighting considerably. A quick glance showed that Ivy was sitting cross-legged on the bed, her anxious gaze still following his every move. She obviously still needed reassurance, but there was more to be done.

Approaching the French doors that opened onto the balcony, Legolas pulled aside the curtains and gazed outside. The snow had stopped and the clouds were clearing, skittering across the half-moon to reduce the landscape to a series of gently rounded, shadowy lumps in an otherwise silver sea.

_It will be good weather for hunting in the morning,_ he thought,_ but it is going to be very cold tonight. _He ran his fingers over the door latch before letting the curtain fall.

"And so concludes another exciting evening at Lairg Castle," he offered, turning away from the doors. Going to the small table by the door, he collected their dessert plates.

"Thank you for the fire," Ivy said softly, taking the cake he offered.. "I know how to build one, but am not so good at it in total darkness."

He shrugged. "I've built fires in all conditions. Everything sits next to the hearth in these rooms, so it's not hard to find what you need."

"Still, thanks."

"You are welcome, Queen's Daughter."

Moving around the bed, Legolas folded his long legs to sit on the floor between it and the wall. Leaning back, he rested his back against the wall and balanced his plateful of baked apple slices, cheese, and chocolate cake atop his knees.

Taking up a wedge of cheese, he dipped it into the apple crumble until pieces of apple and sweet, thick brown syrup stuck to the cheese. Nibbling at it, he caught Ivy looking down at him with a somewhat startled expression.

"I forgot my fork," he offered by way of explanation for his ill manners and offered her the plate. "But apple and cheese are very good this way. Would you like to try it?"

"Uh, no. Thanks." She wrinkled her nose. "I think I've had enough new experiences for one day. Let's save that one for tomorrow, okay?"

Sighing, he eyed his gooey cheese wedge. "I understand. But it is good."

The sadness in his voice must have amused Ivy, for she giggled at him, which had the effect of making the Elf feel warmer and happier and even more protective of her.

Ivy picked at her cake before sighing and setting the plate aside on the bed.

"Is it not good?" Legolas pursued.

"It's great, but I've had a bit too much of Erestor's rich cuisine today." Leaning against the headboard, she folded her arms over her stomach and closed her eyes. "I think I've eaten more today than I have most weeks."

"And why is that?"

"My student loans weren't meant to pay for food and...um...let's just say that some weeks it was ramen noodles and dollar-store tuna - when it was on sale."

Legolas nodded and captured another apple slice between his fingers. "I do believe that. I also believe you could afford to continue eating this way."

"What does that mean?"

_Ouch. _He winced at the sudden defensiveness in her voice.

"It means only that you look a bit underfed." He made his voice as offhanded as possible. "It's actually nice to be able to be able to say that to someone else," he added casually. "I hear it all too often myself."

Her glower told him she was not reassured by his answer. "I've always been thin. It doesn't mean anything."

_Ah, so people have insulted her physical attributes?_ Legolas wondered._ I must tread carefully here. _

"I have always been thin as well," he confessed, "but that has never stopped people in general and Erestor in particular from trying to force-feed me. You saw how he was about pressing the bread and honey on me, and he's been that way for centuries. He cooks almost exclusively for our fathers in Warra, so you'd best get used to it. But he means well."

"I know." She sounded amused, and Legolas felt his spirits lift with hers. "He's also one great chef, so I think I'll be able to deal with it." Sitting up and swinging her legs around, Ivy sat on the edge of the bed so that she and Legolas were almost knee to knee. "Can I still try your sticky apple cheese thing?"

Holding up the plate as if to serve royalty, Legolas said most solemnly, "It would be my honor to share this with you."

Laughing, Ivy smacked him lightly on the arm before gingerly picking up one of his cheese wedges.

"Dip it into the syrup," he encouraged, "and see if you can catch some sweet crumbs on it. That's best."

"The brown sugar bits keep hiding under the crumbly bits," she complained after a few seconds of pursuing them.

"Keep trying."

She did for a few seconds more, but sighed in frustration when her last target dove under the chocolate cake. "I give up. They're too quick for me. Thanks for the cheese, though."

Nibbling warily at the edge of the wedge where a bit of thick syrup clung, she widened her eyes in surprise. "Oh, it is good! How did you ever come up with this weird combination?"

"Apple and cheese is not weird," he defended. "It was my primary source of nourishment growing up. It's good to eat, easy to stick into one's pockets and carry away from the kitchen, and it doesn't go bad. The baking of it only improves it as well."

She eyed the swirled mess she'd made on his plate. "And the chocolate cake? Did you eat that as a child, too?"

"Alas, no. Cacao did not grow in Middle-earth." He rebalanced the plate set on his knees before liberally coating all of the remaining apple slices with chocolate cake and icing.

"Hmm..." said Ivy, watching him. "For some reason, this reminds me of your trying to make a meal of the chocolate from the gift baskets in New York."

"That would be an unfair comparison," he protested, "for a bar of Ghirardelli chocolate isn't nearly as good as Erestor's homemade chocolate cake."

"Maybe not, but it's made me realize something about you."

Distracted, Legolas set about capturing the last bits of cheese with the last chocolate-smeared apple slices. "What's that?"

"You really love sweets."

"I do." He nodded in agreement. "We all have weaknesses, and I'm afraid you've discovered mine."

A silence stretched between them then, broken only by the comforting crackle of the fire. Dessert finally consumed, Legolas watched Ivy run an idle finger down the frosted glass of milk sitting on her bedside table. Giving another soft sigh, she stared off into the shadows of the room, only to look back when Legolas set aside his plate.

"Are you going to lick your fingers now?" she asked.

"It's either that or wipe them on the bed skirts."

She laughed outright at that and watched, delighted, as he did actually proceed to lick each finger in its turn. "And here we have Legolas - the great warrior and legendary member of the Fellowship - behaving as if he were ten years old."

"We do," he said, unashamed. _Is she gently teasing me? _he wondered, _unlike her grandmother who would have chastised me for not getting up and washing my hands properly, or mocked me openly?_ "Erestor's treats are simply too delicious to waste."

"And you've not had any in fifty years," she mused. "Not to mention I know how much you didn't eat over the last couple of days."

"I promised I would eat after the meeting, did I not?" he reminded her.

"And you always keep your promises?"

"Yes. Are you going to drink that?" He indicated the glass of milk languishing on her bedside table.

What?" She blinked at the sudden change of subject. "Um...no."

Reaching for the glass, he quickly drained it before setting it on the floor beside his plate.

"So how are you faring here?" he asked. "With us."

"Faring?" Her green eyes grew wary. "How, exactly?"

Legolas could practically hear her thoughts: _What happens after I tell him what I'm feeling? How honest dare I be with him?_

"Ivy." Leaning forward, he captured her hands between his own and was shocked to find them stiff and very cold. "Your fingers are freezing."

"They are? Um...sorry?"

He rubbed her hands in an effort to impart some of his own warmth. "You have no doubt found all of us unbelievably strange and frightening. So I am wondering how you feel about being forced into joining our world?"

"I don't feel forced," she defended. "I mean...okay, maybe Mom did set me up and Haldir lured me into sharing that plane with you, but Elrond isn't making me go to Warra, and you haven't forced me to do anything. I'm doing all right, ready for whatever comes next. Unless Julien corners me again, but you've got that covered, so it's all good."

He made a non-committal sound and released her hands. Scooting closer, he turned slightly and brought up his arm to lean against the mattress Recapturing her hands, he held them between his own. _I think they're getting warmer._

"You don't have any worries at all about what comes next?" he prodded. "No uncertainties? No questions or concerns? I promise whatever you share will be kept between the two of us."

He got a hesitant smile and an unconcerned shrug for his trouble. "You're asking me to get all comfy and confide in you?"

"Only if you wish to."

"Hmm...." Ivy regarded him steadily for a moment, seeming to search his gaze. Whatever she sought, she must have found it, for in the next instant she pulled her hands from his, toed off her boots, and flopped over onto her stomach. She lay with her feet on the pillow and her face close to his.

"Mostly, I'm just tired," she began softly. "Kind of worn out because it seems like everything to do with Elves is wonderful or scary or amazing or confusing. Nothing just _is_, if you know what I mean? Everything so far has been either a great high or a crashing low, or I'm about to be eaten by a tiger or something." She chewed her bottom lip and scowled. "Isn't anything ever ordinary in your world?"

Legolas laughed outright to hear the question, which actually sounded more like an frustrated accusation.

Ivy reared back. "Are you laughing at me?"

"Not at you," he reassured. "Never at you. I laugh at the irony of my having spent thousands of years with the Elves you only just met, yet this is one of the most puzzling, maddening and messiest weeks I can remember in centuries. We Elves tend to be more intense than Mortals, but this weekend has been ridiculous, hasn't it?"

"So this isn't normal?" She sounded wary.

"Nowhere near," he assured her. "I know I have contributed your emotional turmoil. In point of fact, my initial mood on the plane began this frightful experience for you, didn't it? For that, I do apologize."

"It's not you," she protested. "We just got off to a rocky start, and I get where you were coming from with the whole uptight-warrior act. I know now that you're someone I can trust. It's weasel-boy over there who's making me all twitchy." She flung a hand toward the door. "He's positively creepy, and the only thing I can trust about him is that he hates me."

Her eyes were filled with worry. "I've never had an enemy before, and what Julien makes me feel is just awful. All he's done recently is look at me, and it feels worse than being attacked by that mountain lion."

"You were attacked by a mountain lion?"

"Yeah, once. Long story, but it doesn't matter now, my pony got me out of it. That cat was just hungry. This guy feels like he'd enjoy hurting me, and he's making plans to do just that."

"He will not touch you," Legolas insisted, laying his fingers across her arm. "He will _never_ touch you. I have sworn this, as I am the protector of Aragorn's child, the Queen's Daughter. I swear it as your friend as well," he added softly.

Ivy stared at him for a moment, only to blink hard and swipe the back of her hand across her eyes.

Legolas peered closer when she ducked her head. "You are crying? But why?"

"Because I've never had anybody to count on like that. I'm not sure I deserve it, but I know you mean it."

"Forever," he avowed solemnly, affection surging in his heart to echo the sincerity of his words.

"Thank you. Sincerely, thank you."

Nodding acknowledgement of her gratitude, Legolas stroked her arm while she recovered herself. _Already - and some like her father might say far too soon and much too forcefully - I care for this one. I will defend and protect her most willingly all my days. But explaining that, I think, is for another day. She already has much to contend with this night. I need not add my affection to it._

"Now, have you any other concerns?" he asked as she subsided back on the mattress. "How are you getting on with Elrond?"

Her gaze met his in open astonishment. "How did you know to ask that?"

"Because I know Elrond."

"Yeah, after all this time I'll be you do," she said slowly. "I wish I did. You know his wanting me to be his daughter is the biggest, most wonderful surprise, but he kind of scares me too," she admitted. "He wants to be my dad, and that is just the most super cool thing ever because he really seems to mean it, and I've never really had a dad."

"So what is frightening you?"

"He's - he's so _intense_ about it all of the time!" she exclaimed. "And what's with the hot-cold, trust-mistrust thing between the two of you? I know he doesn't want me spending time with you for some reason I can't possibly fathom, yet here we are tonight, all alone in my room. Mixed messages much?"

She hurtled on before Legolas could draw breath to comment. "I could understand his being upset if I was trying to hang out with Norman Bates across the hall, but Elrond doesn't like me being with you? How weird is that? You and Julien are nothing alike."

Sighing, she fell silent and studied the fire intently as she groped for words. "Elrond seems to have these fits of intense paternal protectiveness that I just don't understand, and they kind of scare me. Dan said his father can be really protective, and that I would learn. Now, that was a scary thing for him to say, especially since he left before explaining what he meant."

Turning her head, Ivy was suddenly nose to nose with Legolas. _She has the longest eyelashes,_ he thought.

"What if I get to Warra and Elrond gets really suffocating?" she asked? "What if I become the daughter he stuffs into an ivory tower, the one he only lets out for lessons in Elvish or something? What if I'm trapped up there, and he won't ever let me out, like some short-haired Rapunzel?"

"You think Elrond would hold you prisoner?"

"Noooo, I guess not. Not like that." Flopping over onto her back, Ivy sent her hair cascading over the edge of the bed. A strand landed across the dessert plate she had discarded, snuggling against the smears of icing and other chocolate leavings.

Gently picking out the affected strands of hair, Legolas set the plate safely on the floor before examining the sticky residue on the long curl of auburn hair. Straightening it with much care, he wiped it against his knee. Ivy continued on, unaware of Legolas' actions as she stared up at the ceiling.

"I know Elrond's kind and gentle and loving, I can see that already. I don't think he'd do anything deliberately to hurt or frighten me, but what if he really gets serious about something we disagree on? I'm going to be stuck on a cattle ranch on the other side of the world with no way to go home if I decide I can't hack it. What do I do then?"

Legolas smiled, released the curl, and watched it snap back into its original spiral. "That's a simple matter. Firstly, you talk to Elrond and explain what you consider to be a problem. What you're feeling, what you want. He is not unreasonable - except with me, of course, but I'm certain he will be far more amenable to discussions with you."

"You think that would work?" She turned her head to look at him, her tone begging for reassurance. "What if it doesn't?"

"It should work. If it doesn't, go to my father. He lives there as well, you know." Stretching out the strand of hair once more, Legolas let it coil around his finger and found himself fascinated with the way it glinted like fine burgundy wine in the candlelight.

"Glorfindel would help me?" she asked. "Really? He'd take my side against his old friend? Isn't that asking a lot?"

"Not at all. My father will help you in any way that he can, just as I would." Legolas stretched the strand of hair out once again, simply to watch it wrap insistently round his finger again.

_It's like a little tendril of ivy, _he thought_, seeking support and a safe place to grow. Not unlike my Ivy. _

It was also soft and only a little sticky and so beautiful that he helped it around his finger yet again. It also smelled slightly of chocolate. It was wonderful.

"--still seems like a lot to me. What are you doing with my hair?"

Legolas snapped back to awareness, realizing he had missed some of her words as he played with the strand. Reluctantly, he released it.

"My apologies. It fell into the cake and had frosting on it, I was merely wiping it off." He was suddenly glad of the darkness, as he felt sure his embarrassment had to be obvious.

Ivy didn't seem to notice his discomfort as she rolled onto her stomach once again and took up the lock of hair he'd had in his possession. "Stupid hair. It gets into everything, especially when I paint. You should have told me, I could have sucked the frosting off rather than getting your fingers all sticky, too."

Examining the hair, she apparently decided it wasn't worth mouthing after Legolas' clean-up efforts. Shrugging, she began separating the hairs one by one, coaxing them free of the invisible hold of sugar residue. "Anyway, I don't want to be the source of conflict between your father and mine. Gee, that sounds so weird, doesn't it?"

"It does sound odd," he admitted, "but you may find yourself in an unusual situation while in Warra. I've no doubt Glorfindel can deal with it, and all of Lord Elrond's moods. They've been friends for a very long time, and my father is probably the only one who can break through some of Elrond's moods. He will help you."

"That's good to know. It helps a lot."

"And if, by some strange turn of fate, my father cannot redirect yours, he can get you out of Warra - if that is what you truly wish. He does have his own plane."

"He'd do that for me?" Again, those huge green eyes turned toward him, seeking verification of promises.

_How many promises has she seen broken in her few years?_ he wondered._ How many protectors have failed to follow through for her?_

"Glorfindel would. And you can always call me," he added softly.

She sat up at that. "You'd face down Elrond to help me? Are you crazy?"

"Your father would say so, but my sanity has nothing to do with it. I have sworn to be your protector, and you have only to ask. For anything. At any time."

Giving a whimper, she lunged awkwardly and half off of the bed to wrap her arms around his neck and squeezed tightly.

"Thank you so much!" she exclaimed, her nose buried against him. "I mean - you don't know, but it's been hard being alone after my Mom - after she...this means so much to me."

Smiling into the fragrant hair that was now curling about his nose, Legolas very nearly pulled Ivy the rest of the way off the bed to hug her in return. She squealed in alarm but didn't let go, so he didn't let go either.

"It is my pleasure." He loosened his grip only enough to lean back and touch his nose to hers. "I know what it is to be alone as well. Starting in this moment and wherever you might be in this world, please believe that you are never alone."

Wriggling closer, she snuggled even harder against him. Pure joy filled Legolas as this slight girl in his arms, feeling her close against him and knowing he was welcome in her life.

Legolas tried hard not to react when from behind them came a soft sound, a faint rattle and shift of the bedroom door. Not wanting to turn toward the sound and end the moment between them, he prayed Ivy hadn't heard it, but she stiffened abruptly in his arms.

"What was that?" Ivy hissed into his ear.

Rolling the rest of the way off the bed, she didn't hesitate to hide behind him. Sliding her arms around his chest, she held on. Shuddering at her closeness, Legolas didn't think she was even aware of the intimacy it created.

"That was the door, wasn't it?" she whispered. "Is it my father?"

"It was probably just the wind," he whispered back, aching at her closeness and wanting more than anything to hold her in his arms once more. "Drafts in the hallway can cause the doors to shift."

"Yeah, right." Tightening her hold, she asked, "Why are you in my bedroom tonight, exactly? Why did Lord Elrond, the Grand Supreme Protective Father, decide to let you up here with me, all alone in the dark?"

"You were tired, and we didn't want you to be alone on this floor with Julien," he replied casually, but his focus was not on her any longer.

His Elven ears heard the faintest of footsteps moving away from the door, and Legolas turned his head in an attempt to discern where their owner was going next. He tensed as he heard someone enter Elrohir's empty room next to Ivy's.

"What?" she hissed, shaking him slightly as she sensed his distraction. "What is it?"

_Where can they be going?_ He didn't answer her as he focused on faint, squeaking floorboards and considered the possibilities. Turning his head slightly, he regarded the balcony outside the room.

"What are you looking at?" Ivy pursued. Tracking his gaze to the French doors, she rose up on her knees slightly to get a good look at them over the bed, only to gasp and drop back down beside Legolas when a scuffling sounded outside.

"That wasn't you checking my doors the other night, was it?" she whispered.

Legolas could feel her heart pounding hard as she leaned into him.

"Hush, now," he soothed, peeling her fingers off of his arm and touching her cheek by way of reassurance. "No, it was not me checking doors. But I think we're about to find out who it was, and that's all to the good. Stay here."

Rising to his feet, Legolas went to blow out the candle in the wall sconce by the door. He then stood waiting in the near-dark through another moment of silence, and was not disappointed to hear a soft thump on the balcony, followed by a shadow looming up on the doors. They rattled softly, and Legolas grinned at a horrified Ivy.

Legolas glided past the fireplace and up to the doors which were now ever so slowly and carefully swinging open. A blast of cold air invaded the room, and Legolas put his head around the edge of the left door before it could complete its journey.

"Good evening, Julien," he cheerfully greeted the intruder. "Or should I say good morrow, as it is past midnight?"

Julien stared back at the Elf in horror, his face a frightening thing to behold in the moonlight with bruising marking his eyes and his nose swollen and shining red in the moonlight.

"YOU!" The younger Elf gasped. "What are you - how - NO!"

Legolas lunged for the Elf's shirt front, but Julien threw himself backward. Legolas followed a half-step behind, while Julien scrambled on the balcony made slippery by the snow.

Leaping up onto the railing, Julien made ready to jump back onto the balcony of Elrohir's room - a leap of a mere three feet - but Legolas wondered if the other Elf's haste, not to mention the icy railing, might betray him.

He watched as Julien balanced fitfully on the narrow rail, wildly flailing his arms as he sought to evade the grip of gravity. Julien's desperate launch toward safety went awry as his slippered foot lost purchase on the ice-coated iron.

Reaching the railing far too late to grab Julien, Legolas did arrive in time to watch him land with a muffled 'plumf' in the deep snow below. Lying still, the fallen Elf moaned in what sounded like real pain.

A shivering Ivy appeared beside Legolas on the balcony, and he automatically gathered her in to wrap his arms around her. "It's far too cold for you to be out here."

"I want to see what's happened," she said through chattering teeth.

Legolas pointed down at the area beneath the balcony. "Julien happened."

She leaned forward cautiously to peer over the railing. "Did you throw him again?"

"No. I think he was trying to fly." Legolas tried desperately not to laugh. "He perched there on the rail for a moment and flapped madly, but never got airborne. And then, he fell."

"Huh. That was stupid."

They both watched Julien roll over slowly, his hands cupping his face. Blood stained the snow where his face had been.

"Oops, there goes his nose again," said Ivy. "Is he trying to ice his face or something?"

"Or something," Legolas agreed.

"What's this?" Bending, Ivy picked up a small, square piece of plastic and shook the snow from it. "It's a credit card."

Taking it, Legolas turned it over in his hands. "Julien must have used this to open your door."

"How's that possible?"

"It's not difficult, for these are very old doors with very old locks. He had but to slide the card between the doors, and then tilt and bend the card until it made the tumbler shift over." Legolas considered for a moment. "How very modern. I'd have used a knife."

"I'd have left my balcony alone," said Ivy through chattering teeth and lips that were already turning blue.

"You are freezing, we must get you inside." Pocketing the credit card, Legolas ushered her back into the room.

She whirled around as Legolas once more secured the French doors. "Okay, scared now. Really scared. Julien tried to break in here last night, and he actually did break in tonight, and--"

Ivy shook her head and stared at him, her terrified eyes beseeching him to help, and Legolas realized she was shaking from more than the cold.

"You need to warm yourself," he murmured. "Come stand by the fire."

She went willingly enough when he took her hand and towed her to stand in front of the fire screen, but it was obvious her mind was elsewhere.

"He could have been hiding in here, waiting for me. Elrond could have walked me to my door the way Dan did last night, and I could have come in here all by myself." She stared up at him, her eyes narrowed in accusation. "You knew, didn't you? You knew Julien was going to do this, and that's why you're here. You wanted to use me as bait, and that's why Elrond let you in here with me."

Her shaking was increasing. Whether with cold, fear or fury, it needed remedied. Stepping closer to encircle her once more with his arms, Legolas fought through her hair to reach her back and begin caressing it.

"I did not _know_ this would happen," he contradicted, "but when you told me someone tried your doors last night, I feared it might be a possibility. Your father and I did discuss it, and I was here to prevent it. You are safe."

"Yeah, for now." Her hands were hesitantly inching around his waist, but her body was stiff against him. "But you can't sleep in here, and what if Julien comes back? He could, unless he broke something really vital this time. He was still moving down there, so I have my doubts about that. He's crazy and he hates me, and he could credit-card his way in here again!"

"No, he won't," Legolas insisted. "Or, rather, if he returns you will not be here." He shook her slightly to get her attention. "Listen to me, please. While I regret frightening you while Julien revealed his intentions, I will also continue making certain you are beyond his reach. That is, if you do indeed trust me."

"Of course I trust you!" she protested. "If I didn't trust you, I'd have run downstairs shrieking for Elrond."

"I'm glad you're not. Screaming for Lord Elrond, that is." He surveyed the room over her head. "Now, where are your personal things? I want you to pile them all on the bed, please?"

"My what?" She leaned back to stare up at him blankly. "You want my stuff? I don't have much, you know what I brought with me. Oh, and I have Dan's hair dryer now."

"Then gather it all up," Legolas repeated, gesturing toward the bed. "I want you to be out of this room before Julien gets back inside the house."

"Oh. _OH!_ I get it now. No problem." Still, she stood staring up at him, and he down at her.

_Why isn't she moving?_ he wondered.

"No problem," she repeated with a hesitant smile, "if you'll let me go."

He shook his head. "Let you go?"_ When I've only just found her?_

"So I can get my stuff together?" Ivy's fingers played with the belt loops of his jeans, and Legolas suddenly realized what she meant.

"I...erm, that is...no problem, as you said." Sliding his hands away and disentangling his fingers from Ivy's hair, he stepped away from her.

"No problem," she repeated, looking bemused as she went to open the top drawer of the clothes press, only to turn back toward him. "Could you, um, close your eyes? Some of this is kinda personal."

Grateful for the reprieve, Legolas obligingly turned his back to her efforts. _She continues to be a constant surprise._

"Okay, all there," came the announcement only a few seconds later.

He turned around to find the meager pile of her belongings, crowned with the purloined hair dryer, in the middle of the bed. As for Ivy, she was staring fearfully toward the balcony once more.

"I promised to keep you safe, yet here you are in peril again," said Legolas, his anger rising rapidly toward rage. The Elf fought to keep it down, remembering all to well his companion's reaction to Elrond's fury.

"Hey, it's okay--"

"It is far from all right!" He clenched his teeth. "Julien has dared threaten you repeatedly under my watch. And in my own home. This is unacceptable. It will not happen again."

"Of course it won't." Ivy crept closer. "We'll both make sure it doesn't happen again, okay?" Reaching up tentatively, she dared to lay a hand against his cheek. "Wherever you're moving me, I'm sure it's somewhere Julien would never think to look. I just hope it's not down in those cold dwarven tunnels Haldir told me about."

Legolas' outrage was entirely undone by her half-smile and wistful tone, not to mention the look of tolerant understanding she was attempting. Tilting his head to increase the pressure of her hand on his cheek as his anger melted away, he closed his eyes for a moment and wondered, _How is it she was so fearful of Elrond's temper, yet seems so accepting of mine? A question to ask on another winter's eve, perhaps._

She seemed to be stroking his jawline now, and Legolas gave a shiver. "Come. Let's get you out of here."

Stepping away from that unsettling touch, he grasped the comforter on the bed to gather the corners together and ushered Ivy out into the hallway. With her belongings under one arm and Queen's Daughter under the other, Legolas strode swiftly toward the staircase. Ivy was almost trotting to keep pace with him, but showed no reluctance to go with him.

_She does trust me,_ he realized_. She has no idea where I am taking her, and yet she comes willingly. How utterly amazing._ He halted at the top of the stairs as another thought occurred.

Ivy paused as well, only to give him a worried glance. "Is Julien coming back in?"

"Not that I can hear. I was going to use the elevator downstairs, but the electrics are still out. Very well, let's go this way."

Turning about, he guided Ivy back the way they'd come. Passing her bedroom and Elrohir's, they left behind the screening room as well to continue down the narrow hallway. The last candle in its high sconce was passed as well, and Legolas towed Ivy further into the murky darkness.

"I don't know why Haldir is so attached to his modern improvements," Legolas muttered as they went. "The moment you need them, they fail you."

"Right." Ivy knew better than to argue.

"My own work is much better and far more reliable."

"Of course it is," she agreed instantly.

"Still, I suppose we should be glad the ellith are entirely occupied watching movies and that their little theatre is soundproofed, else we'd no doubt have them on our heels wanting to know what's going on." Halting at the end of the hallway, Legolas set down the bundled comforter and turned toward Ivy.

"What I am about to show you is not to be shared with anyone else," he warned, "because those who need to know about its existence already do."

"Okay." She watched him intently.

"I am about to show you a hidden passage into the private wing."

"Private wing?"

_Ah, at last a question, _Legolas thought with relief. _Then I've not managed to frighten her into agreeing with literally anything I might say?_

"My private wing," he clarified. "The wing where Erestor and our fathers stay when they are here. Haldir and your brothers have the right to enter as well, but the others do not. Our usual access is through a hidden elevator."

"Dan told me about the elevator last night," Ivy admitted.

Legolas let go a few soft curse words in dwarvish. "Your brother should not have done that. Not that I object to his sharing the information with you, but he should have left it to me. In any case, the elevator is useless in this power outage, so we must use a passageway that existed long before electricity was added to this house."

They stood at the end of the hall before a heavy tapestry that covered the wall from floor to ceiling. Grasping a corner of the cloth, Legolas pushed the banal hunting scene aside. Turning, he took Ivy's hand to guide her beneath the heavy cloth. "Come."

She pulled away, her eyes darting worriedly from him to the tapestry. "Legolas, are you sure...."

Given her emotional absorption with the last tapestry she had encountered, Legolas wasn't surprised she was reluctant to approach this one.

"You have nothing to fear," he assured her. "Mortals created this scene."

"Oh. Well then."

Ivy slid up beside him instantly, and Legolas guided her to stand against the wall in front of him. Letting the tapestry fall behind him, he enclosed them in a dark world where only the two of them existed.

"It smells musty in here," she observed.

"Neither the stone nor the wood paneling has seen the light of day in over five hundred years," he murmured.

A door slammed downstairs.

"Wed-deeee!" Julien wailed plaintively, his voice echoing throughout the house. "Weddy, I need dooo!" Groaning with pain, he began making his way up the stairs.

"Oh, damn," Ivy hissed. "He's back."

"And he's coming this way."

She stopped breathing for a moment. The shivering began once more, and her fingers groped for his. "Legolas...."

"Steady now, I'm with you," he murmured, slipping his free hand around her waist and pressing her close against him. "We'll move quickly, and he'll never know we were here."

Lifting Ivy's hand, Legolas pushed it flat against the paneling and whispered into her ear. "Feel here."

Her hand was shaking as she tried to obey, but she was moving far too slowly for his liking. "What am I feeling for?"

"The corner." Laying his fingers over Ivy's, Legolas marked the fact that Julien had reached the top of the stairs. Quickly sliding their hands sideways, he found the corner molding himself.

"Press hard at this juncture," he whispered, "and you'll feel a compartment spring open."

"Dammid, Weddy, where are doo?" Julien called. "I'b bweeding!"

Ivy was trembling so hard, her teeth were chattering again. Legolas thought Julien surely had to hear it, regardless he was still some feet down the hallway. Nuzzling his nose through her hair, he laid his cheek against hers.

"Find the lever within the compartment," he whispered.

"I _can't!"_ She all but stomped her foot. "Can't you do it this time? He's getting closer!_"_

"You can. Listen to me, only to me. Find the lever. _Now_."

Her fingers fumbled over the wood. Julien lurched closer, and Legolas tightened his hold on her waist. "Now, Ivy!"

"Got it, you wretch!" She scarcely breathed the words.

"Good. Now pull. _Hard_."

She did, and something clicked over softly in the paneling in front of them.

"Good girl." Reaching past her, Legolas caught the edge of the hidden door and pushed. "Go. Hurry."

She needed no further encouragement, diving through the small space and whirling as Legolas' escape was delayed by his having to grab the recalcitrant comforter and shove it before him.

"Take this!" he hissed, thrusting the bulky cloth at her.

She did, fumbling with the trailing edges and clutching it to her while Legolas made sure the tapestry had dropped down completely behind them.

She waited for Legolas to secure the hidden door before asking, "Did Julien hear us? Did he see--"

"No. I heard him go into the screening room."

Turning, he nearly blundered into her and her comforter as inky darkness once gain engulfed them. Legolas stood very still and sighed then, frustrated at his lack of foresight.

"I'm sorry not to move away, but I can't see," she whispered in the absolute silence. "I'm sorry I keep saying that, too, but it's true."

"I am not upset with you, only with...the complexities of the evening. Here, give your things back to me and hold my arm." He took the comforter from her. "I will guide you."

Her fingers clutched his upper arm, biting into the muscle beneath the sweater, but he couldn't blame her for being frightened.

"You did well back there, with the hidden panel," he soothed.

"I almost got us caught."

"No, I almost failed you. I am guilty of frightening you repeatedly this week, certainly traumatized you beyond measure by subjecting you to Julien. And I am supposed to be your guardian."

"Legolas, don't."

"Some protector I am," he continued, more distressed than angry as he led her down the dark hall. "I cannot seem to keep you safe from one Elf in my own home. That is truly pathetic."

"It's not pathetic, because you can't deal with Julien like you could an orc, can you?" Her voice quavered, but Ivy still clung to him. "He's a thorn in everybody's side, but you're not allowed to wring his neck or behead him. Can't throw him in a pit full of snakes either and leave him there to starve."

"A bit of violence would solve the problem of Julien, wouldn't it?" he acknowledged. "But you are right, he has done nothing to warrant my killing him."

"If you killed him, wouldn't you be barred from ever entering Valinor?"

"That would depend on the circumstances surrounding his death," Legolas said cryptically. "But enough of Julien. I regret to say that your new accommodations will not be as comfortable as the ones you had before, but Julien will not be able to reach you there."

"Where's that, the attic? Legolas, it's scary dark in here."

"I apologize for that as well, and will have it fixed in just a moment." He halted before the dim outline of a door. "Here...we're turning into the room just here on your right. If you'll wait but a moment, I will ready the candles and the ever-necessary fire."

Ivy didn't respond as Legolas he set her belongings at her feet. Taking that as agreement, Legolas hurried inside the room to grab a candlestick and striker box.

"You're glowing again," she murmured softly from just beyond the room's threshold. "And oooh, is that me? Look at my fingers!" She held her hands before her, finally able to see the faint glow from her fingertips in the absolute darkness.

Legolas smiled back at her, delighted she was able to find joy, regardless she's been severely frightened just moments before.

_Does this Queen's Daughter actually have some resilience in her? _he wondered._ Past Daughters I have known would have collapsed with the vapors while we stood behind the tapestry. Isabel would have made me find the release and would now be screaming at me, alternating between fear and outrage and making it well known that she blamed me for everything to do with the unholy weekend we're passing. But this one has courage, her heart and spirit are strong. Ah, Elbereth...this one may be special._

Matches were pulled forth from a small box, and a tiny flame was touched to the wick. The old candle sputtered to life, and a pool of light grew to surround Legolas. Guarding the fragile flame, Legolas carried the candlestick over to Ivy as she hovered at the doorway, looking pale and uncertain in its light.

"If you will hold this, I will start a fire. Again."

She eagerly reached out to grasp the comfort of the candle and its light. With a gentle pat to her hand, Legolas smiled sadly and turned to the fireplace. While he busied himself with the tinder and logs once more, Ivy held her candle high and surveyed her new surroundings with tentative curiosity. He heard her move further into the room, the shadows cast by her candle shifting around him.

"Legolas, where are we?" came the forlorn question as she ventured as far as the middle of the room.

Sitting back as the fire flared to life, he turned on his heels to face her. "We are in my private quarters above the kitchen. This is my bedchamber."


	43. Chapter 43

**CHAPTER 43**

Ivy stopped in the middle of the room, her fingers clenching around the shallow dish holding the candle.

"We're in your bedroom?" she managed to get out, pleased that her voice sounded halfway normal.

"Yes, my chambers," he said. "It may not offer the same level of comfort as the room in the other wing, but you will be safe here."

Leaving the fireplace, he set about lighting an assortment of half-burned candles tucked into other corners.

Watching the Elf move in the flickering light, Ivy tried to absorb how quickly she'd moved from an unwelcome intruder on Lee Greenwood's private plane, to being a bemused newcomer taking anxious shelter in the Elf-laird's bedroom.

"I'm sure it will be just fine," she murmured, deliberately shifting her to the new room she found herself in.

_I'm in Legolas' bedchamber, _she thought. _His private place. Best have a look around since, Julien or no Julien, I may never pass this way again._

Holding the candle high before her, Ivy turned slowly to take in what the meager light would show her. All the while, she felt torn between trying to remain cool and the urge to gawk like some fangirl-stricken tourist.

For the moment, the fangirl won, and Ivy found herself drifting toward the huge, brocade-draped four-poster bed set against the far wall. Made of heavy, dark oak with slow spiral twists adorning every post, the full tester bed loomed huge in the flickering shadows. Complete with period hangings, buillion fringes and tassle tie-backs, it looked like something out of a movie featuring Henry the Eighth.

_Considering how dark oak becomes with age,_ she thought, peering past the candlelight,_ it couldn't have been made recently. Unless it's reclaimed oak?_

Her hand reached automatically to rest on the sturdy corner post as she passed round the foot of the bed. The spiraled wood was worn smooth under her hand, so that her fingers slid easily over the polished section. Someone's hand had been touching that exact spot for many, many years, just as hers was now, and she marveled at the intimate glimpse Legolas was allowing her into his life.

The bed was neatly made, and a flash of gold beyond the bed caught Ivy's attention. Leaning across the foot, she smiled to see the Elf's signature gold-adorned, bone-white knives ensconced in their quiver full of arrows leaning against the wall.

_They're never far from his reach, are they?_ she marveled.

Surveying the rest of the room, she noted other furnishings that seemed equally old as the bed, made with equally expert craftsmanship. All of it - from the huge wardrobe and the built-in bookcases beside the fireplaces, to the beaten-up worktable and the carved armchairs before the fire - looked to have been handcrafted from the same dark oak.

_It's a beautiful and decidedly masculine room,_ she thought, _just as I imagined it would be. All Elven and...Legolas. _

Approaching the bookcase nearest the fireplace, she smiled to realize it held, not ancient Elven tomes, but a motley collection of old knives, recycled arrowheads, and a haphazard stack of magazines on woodworking.

Sitting squarely in the middle of the magazines was a small, well-crafted carving of a wooden horse. Its graceful lines were frozen in a gallop, tail flagged and neck arched proudly. Bearing a crack halfway down its middle, the little horse looked so fragile that Ivy dared not touch it.

Blowing out his taper as the last candle was lit, Legolas came to stand beside Ivy and frowned at the clutter on the shelves. "It isn't the Four Seasons, is it?"

"It doesn't need to be. I think it's..." She hesitated, blowing out her own candle and setting it near the dusty arrowheads. _Oh, don't be a fangirl, even if that is how I'm feeling. But what can I say that isn't all gushy?_ "This room really suits you. The furniture itself is fantastic, never mind the rest of it."

"Fantastic?" He gave her a quizzical look, and the firelight accented his bewilderment even as it emphasized the height of his cheekbones. "The furnishings here do what they were designed to do, but nothing more."

"I doubt you'd say that if you saw what's on offer this century." She shook her head. "Solid wood has become dear and modern is the fashion, which translates to a lot of cheap metal and glass and snooty marketing designed to make you think you're getting great workmanship when you're not."

"What has happened to the trees?" Legolas asked. From the look he was giving her, Ivy was sure he was dreading the answer.

"The Mortals have destroyed much of them worldwide to make way for development in some places, cattle and more profitable crops in others," she answered as gently as she could.

"I am familiar with the problem, for a forest so thick that rain and starlight could not pierce it once covered nearly all this land," he said sadly. "Is there no more dead and down wood for the craftsmen?"

"There is, but it comes at a price most people can't afford. If you want new furniture and don't know what to look for, you'll end up getting glued sawdust with fake, plastic wood grain on top. Or maybe you'll get a thin veneer of real pine over bologna board," Ivy relayed.

Returning to the bed, she laid a hand on the bedpost once more. "Wood furniture like this...heavy and beautifully designed so that form follows function, with secure wooden or iron pegs and dove-tail corners in drawers instead of staples...it's hard to find now. It's in antique shops or old homes owned by the wealthy.

Ivy's fingers returned again and again to smooth the well-worn, polished patch. "A lot of it's in heritage trust homes that are open to tours, so you can stare at it but not use it."

"I understand your grief," Legolas said softly. "A few years ago, Haldir relayed that families in villages below Lairg were mad to replace the furniture handcrafted by their Highland ancestors. Special-order catalogs were brought forth from chain stores and the pieces were all replaced. The old things were sold to the antique dealers. That which wasn't sold was chopped up and burned."

Swallowing hard, Ivy fought back tears at the thought of anything so beautiful being smashed into winter kindling. "Out with the old, in with the inferior?"

"You actually like these plain furnishings?" Legolas' gesture included the entire room.

"Your plain furnishings, in my opinion, are three-dimensional Elven art," she protested. "It's not only beautiful, it's also useful, which to some people is the best art there is." Laying her cheek against the bedpost, she closed her eyes and sighed in contentment. "Real wood is never cold, and there's something about it that's so comforting."

"Yes, exactly!"

Ivy's eyes flew open to hear the delight in Legolas' voice.

"Trees were my first friends in Mirkwood," he confessed. "Since the moment I grew big enough to take shelter in them, their hearts have protected and held me safe. I've fought long and hard to protect Ithilien's own."

Coming to share her bedpost, Legolas slid his hand upward to entwine his fingers with Ivy's. "My trees are all asleep now. You must return this summer and meet them in their full glory."

"I'd like that." Trembling on the inside as Legolas' thumb gently caressed her wrist, Ivy hoped her reaction wasn't noticeable on the outside. _Sweet heaven, the last thing I want is for him to think I don't want him touching me._ Tentatively, she tightened her own grip. "Do you remember when this bed was made?"

"Let me see..." The Elf's gaze went distant, and he furrowed his brow as he tried to remember. "This part of the house was completed in the mid-nineteenth century. I moved this bed then from the Stuart wing, and I remember having to move it from my room behind Ithilien's original kitchen before that."

He gave a wry smile. "Even an Elven back remembers dismantling a heavy bed like this and towing the bedstock and other pieces up stairs."

"Poor back," Ivy soothed. _He's not letting go my hand!_ Her heart thrilled to the realization.

Staring up into the shadow-filled celure, Legolas considered. "I made it some time after Aragorn's death, but before Gondor fell. I believe it was after the wicked winter when we were forced to spend weeks indoors, through the cold and the dark, trying to occupy ourselves."

The Elf nodded, satisfied. "Yes, it was then that a great oak fell beneath the weight of the snow, beside the Falls of Eowen. I used its wood that spring to make myself a proper bed."

"You made this?" she breathed.

"I made everything in here." He grinned down at her, which reminded Ivy to check whether her mouth was hanging open in amazement.

"Even the little carved horse over there on the shelf?"

"Ah, no." Giving a soft smile, he gazed the short distance to where the little creature resided. "That horse is all that remains of the years I spent in Mirkwood. Gerdan, the captain of the guard, carved it for me when I was very small. I forgot to take it along when Mithrandir and I left Mirkwood, but the captain brought it back to me in Imladris when Thranduil sent the guard looking for me."

"Is Gerdan in Warra?"

Legolas shook his head. "He was among those who took his family Oversea soon after the War of the Ring. One day, I shall see him again, but for now, I must see to your sleep, Queen's Daughter."

"But I can't stay in your bedroom," she protested. "I don't want to put you out, and my father will have a fit and fall into it if I sleep in your bed. You know he will."

"Lord Elrond will likely be displeased with me no matter what, but this is the safest place available. Perhaps your father would settle for a compromise? My workroom is in the next room, just beyond the bath here." He moved to open the closed door beside the bookcase. "We would share only the fireplace as it serves both rooms, so that arrangement might accommodate both you and your father's sensibilities."

"And Julien can't reach here?"

"That is so." Not bothering to relight Ivy's candle as the fire was casting enough light for them to see by, Legolas led the way through the bath. "The workroom is not set up to be a bedchamber, but I shall move Elrohir's bed from across the way and make it comfortable for you in only a few minutes."

"You're going back into Julien territory for a bed?" she squeaked.

"No. While your father and mine stay always in this wing, the twins have rooms in this wing for casual visits between board meetings, so the bed I plan to retrieve for you is only down the hall. I will use Elrohir's bath as well, so we needn't share mine."

Breaking off abruptly, Legolas came to an equally unexpected halt. Ivy managed to avoid running into his back, but when he failed to continue on into the room, she leaned forward to peek around his shoulder.

The workroom was the same length of the bedchamber they had just left, but far less wide. An enormous wardrobe blocked the far door leading into the hall. Storage bins and labeled wooden drawers lined one wall, reminiscent of the sort Ivy remembered from a vintage nineteenth-century general store in Darby. They kept company with a beat up workbench and an absolutely huge, rough-hewn desk covered with drafting tools, woodworking supplies, and a ragtag assortment of oddiments.

Spilling off of the workbench was a haphazard pile of odd shapes buried in a tangle of black coils. Another twisted collection of even bigger shapes was stacked high on the floor to join and support the original pile on the bench. The firelight cast flickering shadows over the whole thing, making it impossible for Ivy's tired brain to make sense of what she was seeing.

"What is that?" she asked.

"I've no idea."

Creeping forward, he examined the haphazard pile of odd shapes more closely, while Ivy slid up beside him. Picking up one dust-coated item, he dangled it from what was obviously an electrical cord.

"What in the name of Mordor is this thing?" The Elf sounded confused and irritated.

The note of little-boy bewilderment underlying it almost made Ivy laugh out loud, but something warned her it would not be a good thing to do at this moment. Instead, she grasped the bottom of the thing and peered at it more closely in the light of the fire.

"I think it might be a really early fax machine," she ventured. "See, this tube went around and around, and it eventually sent the image of what was on it."

"I see," Legolas said dryly, and it was clear that he neither grasped the concept nor cared. "What I do not see is why it is my private workroom."

"Well, somebody put it here, and that someone would have to be...." She arched an eyebrow at him.

"_Haldir_. So Haldir is storing his obsolete office equipment in my chambers? Why is this...hideous invention...not in _his_ chambers, as he will undoubtedly claim ownership of it as well as its motley fellows?"

Tossing aside the old fax machine and delving into the pile again, Legolas retrieved an old adding machine by its crank handle, and then kicked angrily at an IBM Selectric electric typewriter on the floor and set its top askew. It clacked once, in mournful chastisement.

"Haldir swore to me that my quarters remained untouched in my absence. The housekeeper only dusted occasionally - and that under his watchful eye - which does little to explain the computer on my desk, the dimmer switch that apparently crawled onto my bedroom wall all by itself, and this pile of filthy, obsolete electronics taking over my personal workroom."

Ivy looked up from her examination of a VCR that was as big as the IBM typewriter. "I think this is older than I am."

Poking down one of its huge keys, she jumped back in surprise the top shot upward with a loud 'ka-chunk', awaiting the insertion of a videotape.

"It's really an amazing collection," she said against Legolas' bristling. "If you give it another hundred years, some museum will come begging you for this stuff. Any techno artist would be ecstatic to have it now."

He gave her a sidelong glance of annoyance before tossing the adding machine back onto the table. "That may be, for Mortals have short memories and hoard such things to remind them of their technological extravagances, but I do not. I do not want this mess, and you cannot sleep with it in here. It cannot remain here."

He looked over his shoulder, back through the bathroom. "I will move it across the hall. Give me but a moment."

Turning, he strode out of the room. Now alone, Ivy could give in to the giggles that were now near to choking her.

_Can this get any more surreal?_ she wondered. _Legolas of the Nine Walkers is being invaded - and is seriously pissed off - by obsolete office machinery. I couldn't make this stuff up if I had to._

Gathering up the forlorn adding machine and a couple of dead computer power cords, she was ready to follow Legolas wherever he had gone when he burst back in.

"Here." Pushing her carefully away from the desk, the Elf spread over the floor the blanket Ivy had previously seen covering his bed. Legolas then plucked the adding machine from her arms and dropped it onto the blanket. "Let us load this up and drag it out. Before the night is out, I may dump it all in Haldir's bed."

"That ought to be interesting," Ivy replied carefully. "Especially if you like hearing him screech."

Legolas ignored her, focusing instead on moving the equipment. Each item was turned quickly in his hands, addressed with something muttered in harsh Elvish, and then added to the heap of rejects. Once the blanket was full, The Elf gathered up two corners and backed the laden blanket out of the room.

It took two trips, but finally the offending items were gone. Towing the blanket back into the bedroom, Legolas threw it over the desk to give it a wipe-off, and then seemed satisfied.

"Now we'll need a bed," he pronounced, "and you'll need some space in the wardrobe."

"Please don't bother with that," she protested. "I can curl up on the floor or a cot or something. It's late, you've done more than enough for tonight."

Turning, Legolas looked at her with an expression Ivy found difficult to read, but it certainly wasn't happy. "

"Curling up on the floor or elsewhere is not an acceptable option. It won't take long to make this room at least marginally comfortable." The look he gave her was intense, and just as unreadable beyond that as the one he'd given her before. "I'd have you in my bed, but that room has a balcony."

"Would you be in it with me?" Absolutely appalled as the revealing thought made its way out her mouth the moment she thought it, Ivy very nearly winced. "Um...for protection, of course."

"Of course," the Elf drawled, giving her a concentrated look that seemed to go on and on as he didn't say anything more.

"That room has a balcony." Ivy latched onto the last thing he'd said, hoping to get the conversation back on track before she revealed anything more embarrassing regarding her feelings for her host. "I'm not overly fond of balconies right now."

Despite the security she felt with Legolas, she couldn't help glancing back toward the other room and the unseen balcony that might aid Julien in another sneak attack. _If he's got a death wish._

"Neither am I."

Startled, Ivy looked back to find Legolas standing very nearly on top of her. _Is it my imagination, or did he just move closer - a lot closer - while I was distracted?_

It wasn't her imagination. Neither were the warm fingers that captured hers, or the low, reassuring tone of voice the Elf now had, which sent shivers up Ivy's spine.

"This room is better for you."

His other hand enclosed hers as well, and Ivy had the feeling she might have to fight to get it back. _As if!_ Came the thought. Looking up at him, she scarcely dared to breathe. _He's so...magnificent...standing there in the firelight._ For the first time, she didn't want to paint him. _I want to...._

"This room has only one window and no balcony," said Legolas, "so any outside access will be difficult. For Julien, whose athletic skills seem to be limited, I would say entrance is impossible. To reach you from the hall, he would first have to find the hallway. He would then have to pass my father's room and your father's room without being discovered. He would then have to get past me."

"Gotcha." She was fascinated with how he was stroking the back of her hand. _I didn't know knuckles could be so sensitive._ "Sounds good to me. Sounds very good."

She suspected she was on the verge of babbling, but her brain was too fatigued to care. Legolas kept stroking her hand, and that sort of affectionate gesture demanded a response, didn't it? _If I keep talking, do you think he'll keep doing that?_

"I just might be able to sleep tonight. Maybe. If the adrenaline will go away."

"Adrenaline?" He was listening to her so intently, the room seemed to fade away until the only thing filling her consciousness was him, his voice, and his touch.

_Isabel wasn't kidding when she said he's intense,_ Ivy idly noted.

"Adrenaline," she confirmed. "Too many surprises tonight, but at least they're getting better."

She smiled brightly up at him and wished she was experienced enough with Elves - with males, period - to know what the proper response was when one of the Nine Walkers and your sworn guardian stood in the middle of his workroom, stroking your hand as if it was the only thing in the world he wanted to do.

_Yeah, he's intense and..._ She stifled a yawn. _Relaxing._

"But this night seems to be going on forever," she murmured, captivated by his pupils made huge and black by the firelight and wanting nothing more than to confide in him. "And I don't know what to do with it any more, and I'm so tired."

"I know you are."

"Tired of shouting," she revealed, "tired of being afraid, tired of not knowing what's coming next."

Legolas nodded. "I understand.

The next yawn wouldn't be stifled. "You know, my social training didn't cover any of this, and if you keep doing that, you're going to send me right to sleep."

A frown creased his forehead. "Keep doing what?"

Laying her hand over his, she caught his fingers. "_That_. Stroking my hand, because it's really, really relaxing."

Startled, he stared down at their entwined hands as though he'd never seen hands before. "I'm so sorry, Ivy. I didn't realize...didn't intend--"

"To what, touch me?"

"Of course I meant to _touch_ you. I did not mean to...."

"Relax me so much that I started telling you all my secrets?" she teased, wanting nothing more than to reassure him since he seemed on the verge of true embarrassment. "Make me fall asleep standing up? Reassure me once again that I'm safe with you?"

"I did mean to reassure you." His worried eyes searched hers. "Ivy, I can be...impulsive...intense at times. I hope I have not offended you with my touch. Isabel--"

"Please, no." Not knowing how else to silence his fears, Ivy laid her fingers against his lips.

Startled into silence, he stared down at her.

_What, has no one touched his mouth before?_ she wondered._ I guess it is pretty brazen of me._ His lips were warm, and she could feel his breath against her finger.

"None of that," she whispered. "Isabel's not here. I am, and I _like_ your touch, so there. We both know you're not going to stop until this room does look like the Four Seasons. I can tell--"

"I thank you for your kindness this night." Capturing her hand once more, Legolas held it to his chest before bowing slightly over it. When he raised his head, his eyes were twinkling and a smile curved his lips.

_What did I do to have that affect on him?_ she wondered. _What did I say?_

"The Four Seasons would be impossible," he murmured, "as I have neither bears nor fine chocolate to offer you. What I do have is a solid bed down the hall, and a wardrobe for your use."

With that, the Elf moved away to cast open the creaky doors of the huge old wardrobe and begin digging industriously inside. Pulling things out, he set them on the floor beside his feet.

"Hey, you don't have to do that," she protested, moving to his side. "I don't have much with me, remember? I'd be happy just sticking my duffle in the corner."

"Queen's Daughter does not camp out in corners."

Pausing to look over his shoulder, Legolas then set what was in his hands on top of the pile. Stepping away from the wardrobe, he dragged a carved chair away from the desk and over to the hearth. Grasping Ivy's hand, he towed her toward it.

"Hey!"

"You are tired. Please sit and be warm. Once again, Ivy, I do apologize. This week has gone so very far south of the perfect, formal welcome you should have had. And I keep making things less comfortable for you, dragging you about and enlisting your aid in things that should not worry you."

"It's okay," she interrupted anxiously, perching on the edge of her chair and grabbing at Legolas' wrist when he turned away. _I need to touch him again_. "None of this is your fault, and I'm fine. I'm really grateful to you for taking care of me like this, but you can stop anytime now. All I need is a place to lie down and sleep and I'm good. Really. You don't have to stand on ceremony, okay?"

The blue eyes gazing down at her were filled with compassion tinged with sadness. Reaching down, he guided a strand of stray hair away from her eyes. Smiling down at her, he startled her when he began gently stroking her cheek.

"You should be given the finest we have to offer, not dragged about in the night trying to outrun one of our own. Our own. An _Elf_," he hissed in anger, only to visibly damp down his fury once again before continuing. "I will see you safe, I will see you comfortable, and I will have it done now. You rest here, and I'll finish swiftly. In the meantime, you might be interested in something."

"Something what?" she called after him as he strode back to the wardrobe to push back its doors once more.

Reaching inside, he carefully pulled clear a long something that rang in a rather suspicious way, then turned back to present it to her.

It was a sword. A huge sword, naked without a sheath, and Legolas was trying to hand it off to her. Carefully resting the sharp point on the stone hearth by her foot, he then tilted the hilt into her hand. "Just hold on to this, like so, would you?"

With obstinate single-mindedness, Legolas turned back to the wardrobe. Gathering up the things he'd removed from its interior, as well as a few more stray blades in their sheaths, the Elf carried them from the room. Entirely distracted by the weapon left in her care, Ivy let him go without a word.

The sword was not only huge, it was more than half her height and very heavy. It had to be Elven-made, for the elegant gold tracery on the blade was threaded through Elvish script. It glittered in the firelight and somehow refused to let her look away.

_I must be more tired than I thought, _she mused_, because this thing feels like it's...vibrating. No, it feels like it's humming. I can feel it behind my ears as well as through the palms of my hands._

_Okay, this is weird. Maybe all Elven blades do this? I don't know, but it's still weird._

Legolas reappeared in the doorway, having relocated the pile of things from the wardrobe. "There. We now have room for your things."

She didn't even look up as he settled her blanket full of meager possessions before the wardrobe, but continued staring at the firelight reflected on the Elvish.

_Are those letters moving?_

Smiling to see her so absorbed, Legolas took the liberty of transferring her things into the wardrobe. Straightening as the task was finished, he folded the now-empty blanket and set it aside on the desk.

"Ivy?" he ventured, concern in his voice this time.

She was still staring at the blade and turning it in the firelight. "Why did you give me this?"

"To hold it for me." Kneeling beside her, Legolas laid his hand atop the hilt. "And to see what you thought of it."

"I think it's huge. And really, really old. And beautiful, and weird and scary." Lowering her head and closing her eyes, she drew a deep breath. Opening her eyes, she stared across at him. "Legolas, I swear this thing is humming, like it's alive or something."

He smiled then, and it wasn't a social smile or one of those 'isn't she cute?' smiles Ivy had seen too frequently from certain Elves this weekend, but a smile that reflected a great, almost proud satisfaction.

"Ah, very good," the Elf all but purred. "The sword recognizes you, then. Do you like it?"

"Yes, because I think it's amazing--" she stammered, tilting the sword toward him in hopes he'd take it back. "And no, I don't like it, because this whole thing is scaring me. Why would it know me?" she demanded. "What aren't you telling me? Whose sword is this?"

"The blade is not alive," he explained, pushing the sword back toward her, "though it does possess a certain power of its own. And yes, it is very old. It knows you because you are Aragorn's heir. This blade is Anduril, and I suppose it now rightfully belongs to you."

"Belongs to me? Oh, no, you are not giving me this sword," she protested vehemently, only to pause and stare at him in open disbelief. "Wait, you're telling me that you had Anduril just shoved in a closet?"

"It had to stay somewhere," Legolas replied mildly, "and I did not say I was giving Anduril to you. I said that, as Aragorn's rightful heir, it now belongs to you. And Anduril agrees," he added, nodding at the sword.

Ivy began another protest, only to think better of it and close her mouth while her gaze flickered from the sword in her hand to the Elf before her, and back again.

_Aragorn's heir, Anduril, and they say I'm an Elf? _All the things she'd been told over the past few days collided in her mind to gibber at her tauntingly. _Yeah, right._

A whimper escaped despite her best efforts, and Ivy looked in sheer desperation at Legolas.

"Too much?"

Numb, she nodded.

"Then we shall discuss it another time." Patting her wrist, he then rose gracefully from the floor. "Our efforts would be better spent by getting a bed set up before you drift off to sleep and topple out of your chair."

"That sounds good," she agreed. _And harmless._

With that, the Elf turned to head out of the room again.

"Wait! I'll come with you." Rising, Ivy tried to follow him, but found the weight of the sword to be far more than she anticipated.

"Here," she called out. "Take this thing back and put it away, okay?"

Lifting the sword made both the blade and her arm muscles tremble most embarrassingly. "Hey, Legolas, a little help here?"

Struggling to set the tip back on floor, Ivy next tried dragging it, but within two steps she had made a terrible gouge across the wooden floor, and cringed in horror.

Legolas popped back into the room, and she looked up at him pathetically.

"I can't even pick it up, much less carry it. Please put it away, okay?"

"Of course." Coming to her, he gently pulled the hilt from her hand. "It is an impressive blade, isn't it? But I much prefer my knives."

_So did I,_ she thought. _What I saw of them on the plane, anyway._

Anduril was carefully restored to the wardrobe while Ivy chewed her bottom lip, waiting for the next, inevitable adventure lying in wait.

"I'm taking apart the bed across the hall," said Legolas. "Would you prefer to wait by the fire or come with me?"

She very nearly leaped to his side, her fatigue forgotten at the idea of being left alone again. "I'm right behind you."

She followed the Elf out of his bedroom, down the hall a bit and into yet another dark room, pausing along the way while Legolas lit wall sconces from the candle she'd had possession of earlier.

The warmth of Legolas' rooms did not reach this one, and Ivy shivered while watching Legolas pull the mattresses off of another huge wooden bed. Tipping them easily against the wall, he was now pulling big wooden pegs out of the footboard to unfasten it from the frame.

"Here, would you hold these please?" he asked. "It will not go well on the other end of this excursion if I lose them in the darkness."

Scooping the pegs off of his palm, she carefully tucked them into the pocket of her jeans.

"All safe," she assured. "What else can I do?"

"Can you carry these?" He nodded to the planks fitted into the bottom of the bed box.

"Sure." She stepped carefully over his feet as he knelt, trying to pry out the pegs from the other side. Tucking a plank under each arm, she headed out. "I'll be right back."

"I'll be right here." Laying down the footboard, Legolas moved toward the headboard.

He'd finished prying loose all the pegs by the time she returned, and had all the pieces ready to move.

"I'll help," she offered, grabbing one end of the footboard before he had a chance to object.

Legolas merely nodded before lifting his end of the board, and his muscles made easy work of it. Ivy suspected he was more than likely keeping her close rather than actually needing her help, but it still made her feel better to try.

Towing the footboard down the hall and into the workroom, they set it gently against the wall before returning for more bed.

The headboard followed, then the side-rails, and before Ivy knew it they were assembling the half-headed oak bed like a medieval puzzle in her new room. It wasn't anywhere near as massive as the one Legolas claimed, but it was old and beautiful and had been made hundreds of years ago by the same loving, Elven hands that were now tucking it back together for her.

Standing back, Ivy paused to watch Legolas, bent intently over his task. Firelight poured highlights over his golden hair and high cheekbones. That long hair spilled forward over his shoulders to caress those powerful, elegant hands as they worked, restoring peg to hole with careful determination.

_Oh, I must remember this, must remember everything,_ she thought, close to tears at his beauty and the awe she felt at being allowed to watch him. _I have got to draw this. For as long as I live, I can't ever forget this._

Darting closer to help him steady the headboard - close enough to see his long lashes shadows against his cheek, she also saw that the firelight revealed the hollowness of his cheeks and the circles beneath his eyes.

Remembering how he'd looked in New York, fast asleep on the hotel room floor, Ivy realized the Elf was just as tired now, if not more so.

_He's more exhausted than I am,_ she realized sadly. _And he's been so patient with me._

All too soon, Legolas rose to his feet. "If I may ask your assistance?"

"Anything," she said, meaning it.

"The mattress is rather unwieldy and is better handled by two." Blue eyes held her gaze, and his expression of encouragement was another thing never to be forgotten.

"I'm ready," she managed to choke out, and found herself reaching out to take the hand he offered.

Legolas' fingers closed around hers, strong and comforting in their gentle grip. "We'll soon have you safe and warm and tucked into bed. There are only a few more little things left to do."

_Uh huh,_ she managed to think in reply. _Take your time, Legolas. Magic comes in unexpected places, but it's sure here with us tonight. I know I'm going to crash soon, but, tired as I am, I don't want this to end._

He led her back down the hall to the far end of the box spring leaning against the wall before grabbing the opposite end between his hands.

"You have only to guide your end around the doorframes while I push."

"Gotcha." She nodded. "I can do that."

"Do let me know if I am going too fast," he cautioned. "I don't want to knock you over or into something."

She laughed outright at that. "I've been pushed and knocked over by all kinds of things, like cows. A mattress doesn't worry me."

"The thought of harming you worries me, so tell me. Ready?"

"Ready."

With that, the mattress was in motion, and Ivy found herself running backwards trying to stay ahead of it. She managed to push it around three doorframes with only a few bouts of her squealing and his laughing at her, and then they were through the bathroom and into the workroom, and then Ivy discovered they had actually made it to the bed.

Tossing the box spring onto the bed box was almost anti-climatic after that, and they stopped to look at each other for a moment across the expanse of the bed.

"One piece left," said Legolas. "I left the linens on it, and I know they're clean since Elrohir hasn't been here in ages. So we've only the blankets and coverlets to restore after that. Almost done, Queen's Daughter."

She grinned up at him. "I'm wide awake now. No worries."

He eyed her skeptically, but turned without comment to head out of the room and down the hall once more.

They were to share the same end of the mattress this time and drag from one end, but Legolas took off with the entire mattress before Ivy was ready, so that she ended up running alongside it rather than guiding her side.

"Hey, wait for me!" she protested.

"Don't want to wait." He grinned back at her as she grabbed for her side of the unwieldy thing, but was gracious enough to slow down a bit while propelling the mattress down the hall.

They were still laughing in exhausted glee when Legolas' end of the collapsing mattress collided with the doorframe into his room. The Elf impacted with a startled 'oof!', while Ivy bounced off her side to stagger back into the hallway.

"Are you okay?" she gasped.

"Quite well, thank you for asking."

Their eyes met across the top of the mattress, and they both began laughing even harder than before.

A moment later, the narrow door at the end of the corridor beyond Legolas' room opened. Elrond stepped through, his robes shifting about his ankles, and his raised voice cut through their exhausted merriment.

"Just what, may I ask, is going on here?"


	44. Chapter 44

**CHAPTER 44**

All laughter died, and Ivy and Legolas stared like startled rabbits at the owner of the commanding voice who was demanding instant explanations. The candlelabra Elrond carried added additional drama to the scene as the flickering light played over the distinguished lines of his face and threw his nose into sharp, aquiline relief.

_I don't think this is a scene I'd care to paint, _thought Ivy. _Elrond's brought forth the Eyebrows of Doom again, but we haven't done anything wrong. We weren't doing anything wrong the last time, either. I mean, a bit of hysterical laughter never hurt anyone, did it, so what's he all glowery about?_

_Maybe he doesn't laugh?_

The stairwell door opened behind Elrond, and Erestor stepped out only to fetch up against Elrond's immovable back.

"Might you move on?" asked the chef.

"My pardon." Sweeping his robes out of the way and being careful to hold the candelabra safely away, the Elf lord stepped aside.

One glance at the tense, frozen tableau also blocking the way was all Erestor needed. Shaking his head at the unsmiling miscreants and their silent but damning mattress, he maneuvered around the mattress to continue down the hall.

"Goodnight, Elrond. Ivy, Legolas. See all of you tomorrow."

"'Night!" Ivy called after his retreating back. The others did not respond, and Ivy looked back at Legolas only to discover he had bowed his head and was stealing a furtive glance at her.

So young and vulnerable did he look in the flickering candlelight, and so complete was Ivy's exhaustion, errant giggles threatened to burst out all over again. Biting her lip and coughing to keep them at bay, she hugged her end of the mattress to keep it from collapsing on the floor and looked down at her feet.

"The chaos was easily heard as I came up the stairs," Elrond relayed. "Again, I ask, what is going on up here?"

A sober Legolas straightened with his dignity intact once more. Boldly meeting Elrond's gaze, he announced with all solemnity, "Ivy and I are moving Elrohir's bed into my workroom."

"And why are we moving my son's bed at one o'clock in the morning?"

"So that Ivy may sleep comfortably."

Running her finger over the mattress edging, Ivy nodded in agreement when Elrond's baleful gaze shifted her way. He actually look startled for a split second before the closed-off, critical expression took control once again. Elrond's eyebrows remained doomed, and his fierce frown didn't soften in the least.

_Why have we been called into the principal's office? And what can I do to distract him? Again._

"Legolas has the coolest bed," she ventured. "Have you seen it?"

For the first time since she'd met him, Elrond ignored her completely.

"Why would Ivy be sleeping in your workroom, of all places?" Raising his hand, he forestalled Legolas' explanation. "A moment, please. Do not mistake me, for I am glad to find my daughter after discovering the door to her room standing open and her bedroom deserted. This, after I distinctly recall you were seeing her safely to her room. That said, I do question why she would be in _your_ quarters, and why you are planning to let her sleep in your workroom."

Moving forward, Elrond held his candelabra aloft as though to find the answers written on their foreheads. "While it would have been nice if you had informed me ahead of time that you were bringing Ivy up here, I do not think the planned arrangement appropriate at all. Do you?"

Ivy couldn't help but stare at Elrond's dominant display of misplaced protectiveness. Legolas's chiseled features grew stony, and he was clenching his teeth so tightly that the hollows beneath his cheekbones were even more pronounced, and Ivy feared he might break a molar.

"Actually, I think the plan to have her sleep in my workroomis highly appropriate," he clipped out. "I will explain in due course, but right now Queen's Daughter needs a safe and comfortable place to rest."

With that, Legolas hauled back on the mattress to angle its position in the doorway, gave the recalcitrant thing a sideways shove, and set his shoulder against it. Ivy jumped back as the mattress shot past her into the bedchamber, which had the effect of leaving her alone in the hallway with a very irritated Elven lord. Looking after Legolas, she looked back to stonefaced Elrond and decided instantly to follow her protector into the gloom.

"Gotta help assemble that," she offered with a weak grin, which went unanswered by His Imladrean Majesty. Darting after the Mattress Express, she heard the sound of robes whispering as their owner followed her, but Ivy didn't dare look back.

Legolas had gotten the mattress into the workroom by the time Ivy caught up with him. She resumed her place at the bottom of the mattress as Legolas angled the head toward the bed. It worried her that he wouldn't even look at her now.

"Here, I'll help pull if you push."

"You've done enough manual labor for tonight, daughter. More than enough. We will finish it." Elrond's tone was smooth, commanding, and very much designed to reassert control over the situation. Standing at the edge of the hearth, he surveyed the accommodations with obvious displeasure. "Legolas, I am still waiting for an explanation as to Ivy's new accommodations." "

Swinging into the room, Glorfindel came to rest beside Elrond. "I figured you two had to be up here. There's no place else Legolas would hide you, Ivy." He cast his son a warm smile that somehow managed to include her. "Who will finish what, Elrond, and what accommodations are we discussing?**"**

"Finish assembling that bed, and Legolas is to offer explanation as to Ivy's sleeping accommodations."

"I can manage the bed by myself!" Legolas snapped. "In matter of fact, it's done already."

Gripping the bottom edge of the mattress with both hands, he lifted it high, only to have the thing run into the footboard at an angle and refuse to go further.

"Let me help," Ivy murmured, only to find herself caught between a mattress that would not move, and her father gliving ever closer. _I don't think he's coming to help._

"Oh, not another talk, Elrond," Glorfindel protested, stepping up to help center the mattress. "I grow weary of such talks, and I'm sure these two do as well. Isn't it obvious what is going on?"

"I don't think anything is obvious," insisted Elrond, "and I am awaiting some details from your son. If Ivy is to sleep in anyone's rooms, it shall be mine."

Resting his hands on Ivy's shoulders, he gently tried turning her away from the housekeeping efforts. "Let go, daughter. Glorfindel and his son can handle things from here."

"But I want to help," she protested, only to have Elrond's fingers tighten over her collarbones.

"Ivy cannot sleep in your rooms." Legolas sounded more weary than affronted now, and Ivy felt hurt on his behalf. "Your room has a balcony, and this castle's balconies have proven unsafe in the last hour."

_Legolas has been through just as much as I have over the past week. He needs a break, Dad. _Wishing she dared speak the words aloud, she moved forward, not deliberately shaking off Elrond's touch as refusing to be restrained by it.

"Yeah, balconies can be a problem," she agreed, grasping her end of the mattress once more.

"Ah, so Julien did come calling?" asked Glorfindel as the three of them set about fitting the box spring and mattress neatly between its rails. "I thought as much after we heard him slam the front door again and come wailing like a banshee through the halls." Gathering up the tumble of bedding laying on the desk, Glorfindel threw it onto the bed and scowled as Legolas reached for the fitted bottom sheet. "Hang about. Ivy needs fresh linens."

"These linens should be clean," said Legolas. "Elrohir hasn't been here in a few years, and the bed has not been used."

"I believe you, but I don't trust Bridie. Unused the sheets may have been, but how long have these so-called clean sheets been on this bed? This house is as dusty as any other, the seasons come and they go, and that woman is completely lazy where any Elven comforts are concerned, unless they're for her dear Haldir."

Legolas met his father's gaze with an expression of growing horror. "I know the ones in my hutch chest are clean. Let's get those."

The minute father and son left to retrieve sheets, Elrond moved to escort his daughter to the chair beside the hearth. "I know you are tired, please come and sit down. So this relocation is because of Julien?"

"Of course it's because of Julien," Glorfindel called before Ivy could reply.

_Eagle Elven ears,_ she thought, taking the chair Elrond insisted upon, but refusing to outwardly acknowledge how good it felt to sit down.

Glorfindel reappeared an armload of sheets and blankets, while Legolas followed carrying a small bedside table.

"You heard idiot Julien wailing in the halls, didn't you? Crying for his 'Weddy?'" Pulling a sheet free, Glorfindel set the rest of the linens aside. "He was dripping blood all over Haldir's carpet, so we'll soon be hearing about that loud and long, too. Here--" he added, turning to his son and holding out one end of the sheet. "You get that side, and I'll get this one."

"Wait--" Ivy protested. "I can make my own bed, you don't have to do that."

Embarrassed by their efforts, Ivy got up to join the domestic scene around the bed. Settling on her shoulder, Elrond's large hand pressed her back down into the chair.

"Please, Ivy."

And so, she was forced to passively watch two powerful Elven Lords tucking in sheets and spreading blankets for her.

"Adar...."

"They have it all well in hand," he murmured. "You rest. You're exhausted and you've had a traumatic evening."

Glancing up from the task, Glorfindel assured, "Don't fret, Ivy. We Elves take care of one another, hmm? While we ready your beddy, you might tell what happened to get Julien in such a state? Elrond and I are dying for the details."

"We were in my room eating dessert when Julien climbed onto my balcony, opened the door and came in," she explained in a rush. "Legolas said hello, and Julien jumped off the balcony when he saw him." Squirming in her chair, Ivy shifted her shoulders under the heavy weight of Elrond's hands and glowered. "You can let go. I understand I'm not going anywhere."

Looking abashed, Elrond removed his hands but remained standing like a sentinel beside her chair.

"There you are, Elrond. Legolas was there, just as he said he would be, Elrond. My son was protecting Ivy and is still protecting her. No worries." Glorfindel smoothed out the blankets as Legolas reached for the coverlet Ivy had brought from the other room. "You might want to stop chucking the poor fellow off of balconies, though. It's starting to get monotonous."

Legolas placed the pillows on the bed with great care, then shook his head. "I did nothing to Julien this time. I suspect he knew he was in trouble and tried to outrun me. He missed his footing on the icy rail while attempting to leap from one balcony to the other. I saw him perch there a moment, flap his arms madly, and then he then he went down like a stone. I never touched him."

"He was trying to fly," Ivy said helpfully. "And he left his credit card as a calling card."

Pulling it from his pocket, Legolas tossed the small card onto Ivy's new bed. "Julien used it to pry open the balcony lock, and then he dropped it."

Glorfindel snatched it up to angle the face of the card toward the candlelight. "And here, Lord Elrond, is the needed hard evidence to support the ricidulous sort of story that only Julien could inspire. Oooh, look at that, Julien's name is right there. He's clearly lost it, in more ways than one," he added in mock concern.

Mischief danced in Glorfindel's eyes. "Lost little card like this in the wrong hands could cause Julien unimaginable harm, couldn't it. Best we destroy it for him, lest some criminal make off with it."

"And what would that accomplish?" Elrond was clearly not happy with any of the answers he was getting, and his mood was not improving.

"It would cause Julien anxiety and no little inconvenience trying to get it replaced," said Glorfinde. "And it would keep others from tapping into his funds. Unfortunately." Glorfindel moved toward the fireplace, but Legolas held out a hand to slow his progress. "Wait, don't burn it. Plastic stinks."

"Oh, too right. Well, shall we just bury Julien's little card in the manure pile when we check the horses?" Tucking it into his pocket, Glorfindel settled back on the bed, though he did still give the flames a longing glance.

Ivy laughed at his expression, and Elrond's attention instantly turned back to her. "Did Julien dare hurt you again? Has he damaged your faith in us even further?"

Elrond had clearly taken care to shift his mood out of anger before he addressed her, and the open concern in his eyes startled her. Reaching over, she tugged on the sleeve of his robe with what she hoped might pass for reassurance.

"I'm fine." His expression told her that he wasn't believing any of that, so she hastened to continue. "It was scary having him break into my room like that - and so easily, too - but thanks to Legolas I don't think Julien managed to set one foot in my room, never mind get anywhere near me. I know it would have been bad if I'd been alone, because Julien's so angry with me and he threatened me earlier...."

Her voice trailed off as the full impact of the potential horrors washed over her, but Elrond slide a companionable arm about her shoulders and she watched Legolas move around the bed to pull up a chair and perch on her other side. Swallowing hard, Ivy held his worried blue eyes and forced a smile back onto her face.

"You were right there, and you made me gather up my stuff and brought me here..." Ivy glanced up at Elrond. "Legolas says Julien doesn't even know this wing exists, so I know I'll be safe and comfy here. With all of you."

Silence greeted the end of her explanation, and she tried another smile on her dubious audience. "Really, Adar. It's fine."

"She will be safe in here, Elrond. I swear it."

"She would be equally as safe in my rooms," the Elf-lord growled, "and I would prefer her there." His folded arms and very erect stance spoke of a refusal to be swayed on the issue.

"Your rooms have a balcony, this room does not." Legolas cut through Elrond's arguments, silent as well as voiced. "If Julien is to reach Ivy now, he must discover how to reach this wing, get past my father's door and your door, penetrate the room I am occupying since he cannot gain access to this room in any other way as that wardrobe has been positioned across this doorway for untold years, and know to move beyond the bath into this room." Legolas tilted his head. "Do I make my point? Julien simply cannot reach Ivy in here."

"Not unless he can climb outside walls like Spiderman," said Ivy.

Three bewildered looks answered that quip.

"Okay, nobody's seen the Spiderman movies," she muttered. "Never mind. But if anybody's interested, I'm not really happy with balconies right now. Julien might have another credit card, and he's really, really mad at me."

There was a moment of silence, and Ivy got the feeling the Elves might be somehow conferring among themselves without words. Finally, Elrond nodded.

"Very well. If Ivy would be more comfortable in this room, then this is where she will stay."

Ivy exhaled in relief and even Legolas looked pleased, but Elrond held up a finger in warning.

"However, I will watch over her through the night."

"I will be right here, Elrond," Legolas protested, gesturing at the conjoining doorway. "You know no one will get past me."

Elrond swept a critical, skeptical gaze up and down Legolas. "It is obvious that you are as exhausted as she is, and you must hunt in the morning. You must sleep, and I will watch over Ivy."

"He's right on this one." Glorfindel was now lying down on the bed with his arms folded behind his head. "You do need rest, Legolas. I don't think you've had any real sleep since you left Alaska, and even you cannot continue indefinitely without some sleep."

"I've slept," he protested. "I slept in New York. Didn't I, Ivy?"

"I saw him asleep in New York," she answered, "but I don't know that it was all that restful."

Legolas looked crushed at her lack of support, but she glanced over at Glorfindel who gave a subtle nod of encouragement.

"Legolas planned to be talking to Haldir all night while the faxes came through," she continuned, relentless, "but he fell asleep on the floor. He had his eyes open and everything. Kinda creepy. Haldir was shouting at him to wake up, so I picked up the phone. And then, Haldir made me wake him up."

Legolas' fierce scowl said she was not being as helpful as he'd hoped, but Ivy didn't care. _He's going __hunting__ in the morning and thinks he can do that on no sleep? _She thought. _No way_.

"But yes, he did sleep."

"That was merely a nap, if that," scoffed Glorfindel. "Hardly a restorative sleep. No, my son. You will sleep, and I will watch over you as Elrond watches over Ivy."

Ivy bit her lip as she watched the expression on Legolas's face darken. Thankfully, he had shifted his gaze to his father. Getting up from the bed, Glorfindel stepped forward.

"It's not a bad battle plan if you stop to look at it, Legolas," he soothed. "First, you will still be on the front line. Secondly, Julien is hopeless at stealth, and you'll surely hear him if he somehow manages to get on this floor. If that does happen, both Elrond and I promise to let you deal with him."

The look he cast Elrond's way said 'Don't argue.' Thankfully, Elrond did not.

"But if you let Elrond and I help, let us also keep watch, then you and Ivy can both relax your guard. You know you must sleep, for if nothing else there is the morning hunt to consider, else it's back to oatmeal by dinner for all of us." Glorfindel grimaced. "Next up is the ceilidh and its accompanying issues the new laird must see to. Sleep tonight," Glorfindel urged, "and you'll be the better for it tomorrow, when Julien might dare to be up and about again."

Bowing his head, Legolas considered his father's words before giving a sigh and nodding. "Very well. You speak wisdom as usual, Adar. It is as you say - a wise plan - and Ivy's safety is paramount. You've no idea how I wish I could dump the little wretch in Gimli's cells and be done with him!"

"That would be fun, but ill-advised," Glorfindel commiserated. "Hopefully, this night will be the end of his macinations."

Ivy glanced up at her father, whose expression indicated he didn't agree with Glorfindel's hopeful assessment any more than Ivy did. A thought then occurred to Ivy that made her sit up straighter and reach out to touch Legolas' arm.

"Wait a minute. You're going hunting in the morning?" Ivy asked. "Deer hunting?"

"Red deer," he affirmed, "else we are out of meat according to Erestor. It happens every year we get this kind of snowfall. It's not a difficult hunt at all, but I must go out."

"With your bow and quiver and everything?"

"Yes." Legolas sounded bewildered.

"Could I go with you?" Ivy heard herself asking.

Legolas stared across at her, as though shocked she would even suggest such a thing.

She felt herself coloring in embarrassment. _Did I just screw up somehow? Don't girl Elves hunt or something? _

"I've been hunting before," she said defensively, as the other two Elves were staring at her as well, now. "With my grandfather. I know how to behave, really. Walk where you walk, don't talk, don't touch anything - that sort of thing."

"I will be going out very early," Legolas said softly. "The deer will be hungry after this storm, and they will be looking to feed at dawn."

"I can get up. I want to. Will you wake me?"

Legolas looked as if he simply couldn't believe what she was saying, and the other two Elves looked just as surprised.

"You sincerely wish to go out in the pre-dawn cold and deep snow to watch me shoot a deer?" Legolas asked.

"If you wouldn't mind? I don't want to intrude on your private time or anything like that, but I love being in the woods and I haven't been there since we moved...."

She let her voice trail off, starting to feel stupid for having asked. _They're all looking so shocked with the newbie who's trying to jump into the guys-only club_.

"Never mind," she mumbled. "It's okay. Just forget I asked."

"You know I must clean the deer?" Again the hesitant look in the sensitive blue eyes, the hesitation as Legolas waited for her to demand details, and the revulsion that would surely follow.

"Of course you have to clean it. And yes, I know what that means." She all but rolled her eyes. "Slit open the belly, but not too deep. Don't puncture anything inside. Tie off the ends and pull out the guts. Wash the insides, then skin the carcass. That about cover it?" She could feel the questioning stares without looking at Elrond and Glorfindel. "What? I went elk hunting with my grandfather."

Glorfindel's merry laughter broke the stunned silence, and he closed the distance and scooted in between Ivy and Elrond to wrap an arm around her shoulders, hugging her against him in approval so tightly that she gasped.

"The child knows what she's talking about. I do like this one, Elrond," he added with a grin.

"Hmphm," was Elrond's only reply. Ivy thought he might have had more to say, but Glorfindel wisely went back to his son after hugging her.

Legolas was a bit more quiet in his approval, but his worried eyes were now dancing, and he met her gaze squarely.

"In that case, I would be honored to have you join me." And he smiled at her - a shy but warm and welcoming smile that made her heart skip a beat. "You shall need warmer clothing, but I know where to find that."

"Then it's settled," Glorfindel proclaimed, clapping his hands lightly together to seal the invitation, "and you both need to sleep. Both for the benefit of our empty bellies tomorrow, and before one or the both of you collapse on the floor. Elrond, why don't you see your daughter tucked into her nice, clean, warm, _safe_ bed, while Legolas and I do a final check on the horses?"

"Isn't that what I've been trying to do for some minutes?" the Elf-lord grumbled.

"Are you two going to bury the credit card?" Ivy asked eagerly.

Rising from his chair, Legolas exchanged a telling glance with Glorfindel.

"The manure pile is too frozen to bury the card tonight," said Legolas.

Glorfindel gave a mock pout. "Alas, you're right. We'll have to look in the stalls for a fresh dropping and stick the card in there before it freezes. We can then add it to the midden in the morning."

"If you two have concluded your juvenile plotting, would you go along so Ivy can get settled and get some rest?" Elrond gestured peremptorily toward the door, and both Legolas and Glorfindel began guiltily sidling toward it.

"I think we've been banished," Glorfindel advised Ivy in a stage whisper. With a wave, he shoved Legolas out and followed behind him. "At least the horses will be glad to see us."

Elrond followed them to the doorway, listening as their voices faded from the room beyond and were cut off abruptly as they made for the stairs leading behind the kitchen and out through the game room door.

"There we are, daughter. Peace at last. Let's get you settled in bed."

"Why did all of you stare at me like that when I brought up going hunting wioth Legolas?" she asked anxiously, still worried that she might have committed some Elven faux pas with her request.

"Stare at you?" Elrond replied. "Did we?"

"Yes. You stared at me. Glorfindel stared at me. Even Legolas looked shocked. Don't girl-Elves hunt?"

"Ah, that. I see."

"See what?" she persisted. "Where I screwed up?"

"You did not 'screw up,' as you put it. We were startled, nothing more."

"It seemed like a pretty big startled to me. It was like you were all holding your breath. Like I'd asked something awful."

"Firstly, it was a surprise that you wished to go out with Legolas. Secondly, it is a miracle that he agreed to take you."

"I know, dumb city kid is likely to blow his hunting trip and then we'll all starve." She felt like stomping her feet in frustration at having been so stupid, and starting to cry also seemed like a viable possibility. _Stop it and grow up. You're tired and over-reacting, so just go to bed and forget about it._

"We were surprised that Legolas agreed to take you, because Legolas hunts alone." Elrond's voice cut through her latest bout of self-recrimination. him.

"He doesn't take out tourists?" she asked warily.

"He doesn't take anyone with him," Elrond reiterated. "Oh, his father will occasionally go out with him, but no others. Legolas hasn't taken anyone hunting with him since Aragorn died. Even after he became king, the two of them used to go out frequently, but joy of hunting with company seemed to have ended for Legolas when Aragorn passed on."

She could feel her mouth hanging open, and she knew her eyes were huge. _Stop it. You must look really stupid,_ she scolded herself, but even that ever-present critical voice couldn't override the shock of this bit of news. "Legolas only hunted with Aragorn?"

Elrond's smile was gentle now, and only slightly melancholy. "Yes, only with his friend. And now with you, it seems. So it's best you get yourself to sleep so you are rested in the morning. Dawn comes...not so very early in Scotland this time of year, but early enough."

Ivy looked again at the massive oak bed that had started the last round of disagreements between everyone, then back at Elrond. "Are you really planning to watch me sleep again? I mean, it's got to be a pretty remote chance that weasel-boy is going to find some way to reach me tonight. I'm sure I'll be safe enough with all of the powerful Elf-Lords in their own beds."

"Indulge me." That melancholy smile again. "I want to be certain you are safe, even if the chance of harm is exceedingly remote. I've only just found you, Ivy. I couldn't bear it if something were to happen to you. Especially not if I could have been there to prevent it."

"Oh." _He gets angry when he gets scared, remember? The angries are all gone. Now, he's just...scared somehing might happen even when it won't, I guess? _"Okay. I'll just get my toothbrush, and...hey, where's my stuff?"

Ivy headed for the massive wardrobe, where she discovered her small pile of possessions had been sorted out, refolded, and stacked neatly on the dark oak shelves within.

"Are your things there?"

"Yeah. Legolas must have stuck them in here, but I don't know when."

_So much for privacy with personal things,_ she thought. _At least the hair dryer is still here._ Pulling out her night clothes, she groped inside the gloom for her toothbrush. Turning, she saw Elrond hovering near the fireplace.

"Are you just going to stand there and watch?" she demanded.

He gave a slight, unruffled bow. "Of course I will give you privacy to prepare for bed. I will wait out here." Elrond glided into the bath and out the other side into Legolas' still-empty room. Leaning down, Ivy found she could still see his shifting robes through the flames of the shared fireplace.

_Yeah, that reassures me all to heck. I wouldn't put it past him to kneel down and take a peek, just to make sure no boogeyman came in with the bed. _

Clutching her things, Ivy snatched up and lit the candle in the dish that Legolas had originally handed her and made a dive for the bathroom. Locking both the doors securely behind her, she reminded herself, _Legolas said to. _

_It's not like I think Elrond is going to leap in without warning. He's an Elf Lord, he's a gentleman. And he's my father, _she scolded herself. _It's just...I want my privacy! _

Once ready for bed, she unlocked the doors and crept into her room again. Blowing out the candle, she it on the little table Legolas had brought in to keep company with the massive bed.

_The woods match,_ she noted in yawning amazement. _I wonder if he made these at the same time? These medieval furnishings really are amazing, I feel like I'm sleeping in a museum display, and they bang everything around like it's nothing special. _

_This is definitely a night I'm going to remember. For many, many reasons._

She remembered seeing Legolas' shining head bent over the bed, determined to make all as comfortable as he could for her, recalled watching father and son working together to finish making her bed. Closing her eyes, she let her fingers move in the air, taking care to sketch invisibly what she would later bring to life in her book.

_They looked so much alike, it was like watching almost-twins facing each other like bookends...smoothing the sheets under elegant, long-fingered hands...golden hair falling forward, tinted red by the firelight...light and shadow playing across their features...._

_I've got to remember this. I've got to draw this, _she told herself yet again, mentally adding her newest, precious memories to the growing file in her mind labeled 'must draw this.' _If I only had my sketchbook, but I've no idea where that ended up._

Leaving off air-drawing, she crawled into the massive bed. The old wood creaked and groaned as her weight shifted on the mattress, and she wriggled in delight to hear it.

_Oh, this is too cool, it sounds something between a ship and a rocking chair. Mom, you never mentioned the ancient furniture, either._ Pulling up the blankets, she settled against the pillows and felt what was left of her energy fall away.

Another sound reached her and she rose up, frightened by the unfamiliar noise as well as by the looming shadow that blocked the fire's light and fell across her.

"It is only me." Elrond's deep voice soothed her. "I will be with you."

Stepping out of the firelight, he set a massive chair under the lone window beyond the bathroom door.

"You're just going to sit there and watch me sleep?"

"Yes."

Shaking her head, she plumped the pillows and sank back down as sleep began taking her again.

"I still think you just like to watch people sleep," she muttered drowsily.

The chair creaked as he settled into it, and his soft laughter reached her then. "Only if it's you, my daughter."

* * *

Awareness slowly nudged Ivy from sleep - awareness of something unfamiliar. She knew without opening her eyes that she hadn't slept nearly long enough, and knew that it was far from dawn.

The room was warm, and the fire was fairly high again, indicating that someone had added wood sometime recently. There was also a flash of light accompanied by a strange whooshing noise.

That commanded her attention in a hurry. _What's in the room with me?_

She debated the wisdom of revealing she was awake, but another whoosh ended the debate. Sitting bolt upright, eyes wide, she looked around the room.

What she found was Elrond, sitting in his chair across the room and turning Anduril in his hands. The blade caught the firelight again to throw another flash of light toward her. Turning the blade, he then swung it, cutting through the air and creating the distinctive sound.

_Elrond with sword,_ her sleepy mind recorded_. Not scary. Not dangerous. Just amazing. Look how easily he swings that thing, and I couldn't even pick it up._ She watched the blade make another circuit, guided by his large, sure, and clearly very strong hands. _Elf-lord with sword. Wow__._

Another need made itself known, now that she was awake. With reluctance, she slipped out from beneath the warm bedclothes. She almost squealed in dismay at the coldness of the floor, but managed to keep from waking the rest of the house - barely. As she stood up, she noted that the sword came to rest, point down, on the floor.

Elrond leaned forward, watching her closely. "Are you all right? Did I wake you?"

"Gotta pee," she muttered, shuffling toward the small room.

A candle burned brightly on the sink, which was a good thing as she had forgotten her own little flame. Ivy noted someone had merely dripped wax onto the porcelain and stuck the candle into it to ensure it stayed uprighit. _Hey, whatever works in the dark of winter, right? _

The door leading into Legolas' room was open, and Ivy reached to shut it, only to hesitate.

_Don't look in there,_ she thought_. It's not right to look in there. Legolas deserves his privacy, even if I don't get much. You can't go peeking at him while he's sleeping. _

For all the wisdom of her conscience, the urge to see if her friend was too strong. As was the urge to see if Legolas was actually sleeping in that massive bed, not to mention the urge to see his bright beauty in the firelight once more.

She crept forward on bare feel, trying her best to move soundlessly. _Never know what elf ears can pick up. Might even hear me breathing.´ _Even so, she took one careful step and then another, until she could see around the doorframe. What she saw make her gasp in surprise, and her heart ache.

Legolas was, indeed, tucked into the big bed. He lay still, which seemed to Ivy so wrong, somehow, as she knew him as someone in constant motion. His long hair was splayed across his pillow, the firelight sparking gold and red highlights in the strands and emphasizing vulnerable shadows under his cheekbones and in the hollows of his closed eyes. He looked so young - surprisingly young as he slept - nothing at all like the worried Elf or ultra-intense warrior Ivy had seen earlier, but still his expression was almost sad.

At the the side of the bed sat Glorfindel. He looked up at her as she crept closer, and offered her a small smile.

"What are you doing?" she whispered. "Is he okay?"

To her horror, Legolas turned his head at the sound of her voice. His breath caught, its even rhythm interrupted, and he clenched the wool blankets in his hand.

Glorfindel murmured something soft in Gondolic and ran a hand over his son's head, stroking down his hair. To Ivy's vast relief, Legolas let go the blankets and his deep, regular breathing resumed.

The legendary Elf then returned his attention to her. "Legolas is fine. He's sleeping, as you can see."

"Are you sure?"

"I am sure."

"But his eyes are closed," she whispered

"When Legolas is very tired, he will sleep with his eyes closed, as will all Elves."

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

Glorfindel looked down at his son with an expression of surprising tenderness.

"Elrond isn't the only one wishing to watch over his child," came the soft reply. "This is a luxury I've not had in a very long time."

Ivy felt suddenly embarrassed to have intruded on such a private scene, but didn't know quite how to extricate herself, much less how to look away from the unbearable, raw beauty of father and son. _They're as mesmerizing to look at as Aragorn's tapestry. And who needs to sleep? I could look and look._

Glorfindel offered a tender smile. "All is well, Ivy. Now rest, as you've a busy morning ahead of you."

She offered an awkward little half-wave before ducking back into the bathroom and closing the door. _That scene was so intimate, I'm not drawing it. _

Once finished, she crept quietly out her side of the bath, only to find Elrond's eyes followed her every move. He sat motionless as a waxwork, Anduril's sword tip still on the floor. His large and elegant hand was closed about the pommel, and he seemed to be waiting patiently in the dead of night for her to crawl back into a bed that was several times older than her country of birth and standing in home of an Elf.

Once she had crawled back into the bed and settled down to sleep, Elrond lifted Anduril and swung it again in a motion Ivy realized had to be born of habit during wars - the scope and destruction of which she couldn't possibly imagine - and ancient training lost to the mists of time under Gil-Galad and only Elbereth knew who else.

Lying on her side, she watched Elrond manipulate the sword and refused to close her eyes against its fierce, flashing light.

"You know," she whispered to herself as much as to Elrond, "any other night this would seem really strange."

With that, she closed her eyes and fell into sleep under the protection of an Elf-lord and the song of Anduril.


	45. Chapter 45

**CHAPTER 45**

Ivy came awake instantly the next morning when Legolas lightly shook her shoulder. Peering up at his silhouette framed against the light of the still-glowing fire, she muttered, "What time is it?"

"Six thirty. I let you sleep as long as I could, but sunrise is at eight-thirty, and we've to move quickly if we're to be in position before the deer are on the move."

"Okay." _No warm shower this morning, _she mourned. _Certainly no time to subdue the hair. I'll just have to go as I am and hope I don't scare off the deer._

The Elf patted a lump of something at the foot of her bed. "I've loaned you my warmest clothes. Put them on over your own and meet me in my room when you're ready."

Her feet hit the cold floor before Legolas had exited the room.

"Oh, cold. Cold floor on the toes," she hissed, hopping as she dove for the closet to do as Legolas had suggested. Hastily yanking on the warmest clothes she owned, she turned back toward those Legolas had brought for her.

_He's letting me wear his clothes?_ Snatching up a heavy wool sweater, she breathed deeply before pulling it on. _Oh, but it does smell like him! _

Butterflies fluttered in her belly as she realized not only would Legolas' clothes be keeping her warm, but she'd be spending the next few hours - perhaps even the whole day - with him.

_Me! With the real Legolas! Alone!_ she squeaked to herself while grabbing two pairs of wool socks and digging beneath the bed for her boots. _Just the two of us! This dream wasn't even on the radar last week, and just look where I am now._

Not wanting to keep the Elf waiting, she settled for only skimming a brush through her hair and staunchly ignored the fact that painful sleep tangles would be waiting when she finally got round to doing a thorough job of it. She briefly thought about braiding it back, but discarded that idea as taking too long.

_Not only that, _she thought, hurrying into the bathroom, _but maybe leaving it down will help keep my ears from aching with the cold._ Declaring herself done after brushing her teeth, she stepped out into Legolas' room to find it as dark and gloomy as her own. Standing before the fireplace with its guttering fire, Legolas appeared to be finger-combing his hair. _At least, I think that's what he's doing. He could be ripping through it like I saw him do in New York. Was that morning really only a couple of days ago?_

"Is the electricity still out?" she asked.

"It is. There is no telling when it might be restored."

"Are you talking days or weeks?" She moved further into the room. "Don't tell me you have to wait for the spring thaw to get help up here."

Legolas smiled and shook his head. "It will not be so long as that, nor is it unexpected. We will manage. We did for years before the concept of electric wiring found its way to the Highlands."

Ivy very nearly gasped aloud as she ventured closer and saw that, far from ripping through his hair, the Elf was actually finished off the second of two braids that began at his temples and ran behind his ears to disappear into the length of his hair.

_I can't believe he has braids like Legolas did in the movies._ _And he's wearing a brown tunic and tights, and knee-high leather boots? Oh, he has the most beautiful conformation, so clean and tight. I know he's a great mover, too, but I guess most elves are. _She was stared openly at him, and he arched a quizzical eyebrow.

"Hmm?"

"Are your braids important?" she dared to ask.

"Very important. I would not want to use my bow without them."

"Ooh," she breathed, awed. "Are they some sort of ceremonial ornamentation worn only by Elven warriors?"

"Are they what?" He looked startled. "Alas, no. They are but a practical necessity for long-haired Elven archers to prevent them from being snatched bald when they release their bowstrings."

"Oh." She battled the urge to discard the practicality of his reply and keep the more romantic, if fictional, explanations she'd imagined. "That makes sense."

Legolas crossed to the bed after finishing off the braid with what looked like a stray thread from some shabby blanket. Raking back the curtains, he revealed his long, recurved bow and quiver laying across the mattress, complete with the set of long white knives and their well-worn knife harness.

"Oh, wow." Ivy crept up beside him.

Legolas turned to look at her, his expression confused. "It is just a bow, Ivy. You saw it before. On the plane," he prompted as she continued to stare at it.

She shook her head in adamant dismissal. "Didn't register then. Now, I can see the whole Elven hunting kit and know what it is. And it's _yours_. It's almost exactly like it was in the movies." Her hand hovered over the faded peacock tooling gracing the quiver. Her fingers twitched. "Do you mind if I touch this?"

"Not at all."

He seemed more than a little amused and definitely in the mood to humor her, and she needed no further permission. Daring to run a finger over the faded peacock, she memorized the simple lines forming the arrogant creature.

"This tooling is beautiful. Who did it?"

"Haldir. He fashioned the quiver as well and has made each of my bows over the years, beginning with the one given me in Lothlorien."

_Haldir?_ She hadn't expected that._ Huh, who'd have thought it?_

"This movie you mention. It seems to be rather important to you," Legolas ventured as she continued caressing the leather of the quiver. "Why is that? And what movie was it?"

"It's three, actually. A trilogy based on your books."

"My books?"

"Julien's books. You know - _The Lord of the Rings?_ Surely you heard KiKi going on about it earlier."

He nodded in understanding. "And you seem to know it quite well."

"Hey, until last week it was the closest I'd ever get to Elves, and yes, I loved seeing all of you, even if you were played by Mortals. But this is so much better." She turned from her inspection of the quiver to look up at him. "Could I maybe see your knives, too?"

"Of course." Reaching down, he pulled one of the long white weapons and handed it to her. "The blade is deadly, so please take care."

The knife was heavier than it looked and perfectly balanced. It also bore intricate embellishments that flowed unbroken from its handle to the tip of its blade, and Ivy brought the weapon closer to her face, moving it in the dim firelight in an attempt to read the stylized gold lettering entwined with the graceful ornamentation.

"Mind your nose," Legolas warned.

She squinted as she angled the blade toward the light once again. "Is this Sindarin?"

"Gondolic. An inscription my father included when he made the knives. He gifted them to me a few days before I began traveling with Mithrandir."

"Gondolic..." she pondered. "No wonder it looks different. What does it say?"

"Something very personal." His fingers closed over hers to neatly pluck the knife from her grasp and return it to its sheath.

"You won't tell me what it says?"

"My knives will speak to you as they spoke to me, when you are ready," came the calm answer.

"When I can speak Gondolic, you mean?"

"Yes, if my father will teach you. And if he deigns to spend thirty years training you as a warrior."

She sighed. "Like that would ever happen."

"It is hard to foresee what will come to pass."

He replied so casually that Ivy actually had to wonder if it was a possibility. But that could be thought about later. For now she needed to focus on the Elf.

Beside his quiver lay two cloaks, almost lost in the deep shadows of the bedclothes. Picking up the first cloak, Legolas swung it about Ivy's shoulders. "This will keep you warm."

The material flowed soft and light between her fingers. Watching it settle about her ankles, just shy of her toes, she was startled when Legolas lifted her chin to set about fastening a green-leaf broach at her throat. Once done, the Elf turned away to give the fletching on his arrows a final inspection.

Lifting the hood of her cloak experimentally, Ivy basked in the warmth of her own private bubble. "This is different. Where did it come from?"

"Lothlorien." Legolas was busy looking over the fletching standing up from the quiver and did not spare Ivy's continued curiosity so much as a glance. Picking up the second cloak, he settled into it before setting the quiver across his back and buckling himself into its harness.

"Is it like the ones Galadriel gave the Fellowship?"

"Exactly like, as it is the original cloak she gave to Aragorn. I hope you can forgive the travel wear it shows, but it was hard used that year. Shall we go?" Slinging his bow over his shoulder, Legolas headed for the door.

Ivy froze in place. "This is Aragorn's very own cloak? The real one? I can't wear this, it's a Fellowship relic!"

"It is but a cloak, and cloaks can be replaced," came the patient reply. "The sun, however, will not wait this day. We need to be away."

"This cloak can't be replaced, it's _special!_ What if I tear it?"

"Then it will have one more tear in it," he said reasonably. "It won't be the first. That cloak has been torn and repaired many times. One more is of no consequence, and if we wish to make an entirely new cloak, we can do that as well. Our weavers still produce the same cloth in Warra. Either way, it does not matter."

"But-"

Legolas' expression was fast shifting into exasperation. "Ivy, you must either wear the cloak or remain here because I have nothing else that will ensure your warmth on this hunt."

"I could wear Haldir's stuff," she offered. "The same stuff I wore out to the barn."

"Wrapped up like an Egyptian mummy in its sarcophagus, unable to move or to see and still feeling the cold? I think not. You would never make it to the hunt site, nor survive the chill."

"But Legolas-" she protested once more, her hand clenched in the fabric and its unnerving history.

"I see that your choice is to remain behind. I am sorry, for I would have enjoyed your company." Giving a slight bow, Legolas closed the bedroom door behind him and was gone.

"Hey!" Running to the door, she flung it open. There was no sign of the Elf in the cold, dark hallway, but a door to her right was cracked open and pale light flickered beyond it. Darting the distance to peer inside the stairwell, she spied Legolas looking up at her from the steps below. He held a burning torch in one hand and gave a soft laugh.

"So you have decided to wear Aragorn's cloak after all?"

"Yes, you wretch!" she whispered, not wanting to wake the rest of the house. Carefully pulling the door closed behind her, she stomped as loudly as she dared down the worn wooden stairs. "But it'll be your fault if I rip it on some nasty bramble-bush or get it muddy."

"I shall take total responsibility for its well-being if it will make you feel better. But I have also accepted responsibility for putting meat on the table, and we must go. _Now_," he stated firmly and continued down the stairs, taking the light source with him and leaving Ivy to follow or stay as she would.

Sighing, she began feeling her way down the dark steps.

"First you hand Anduril to me, and now you stick me in Aragorn's cloak," she muttered. "Legolas, you have got to stop doing stuff like this."

"Why?" His voice floated up to her.

"Because Aragorn was a king, and the belongings of a king belong in a museum or something. Behind glass, not being dragged around in the snow. Besides which, he was your friend, and the things he left behind belong to you. With you."

Finally reaching the narrow door at the foot of the stairway, she discovered they were now in the workroom behind the kitchen. "Oh, that's neat. Do you have many other secret passages in this place?"

"A few," he answered shortly before opening a door to the right of the one they had just exited. "This is the back door into the kitchen."

Legolas headed across the dark expanse. "Aragorn is your ancestor. As such, he belongs to you more than to me. Beyond the question of ownership, the things he left behind are things meant to be used. I see nothing wrong with your using them. In fact, I think it quite appropriate, even if they are a bit big for you."

"The hell!"

"Perhaps we can agree to disagree?" the Elf offered, turning beside the stove and holding the torch aloft to look into her face.

"Sure we can. As long as you get your way, and I keep using his things or you'll ditch me." she said sweetly. "I've got your number, mister."

Giving a soft laugh, Legolas opened the refrigerator and retrieved a small satchel. "This is yours to carry."

Taking it, she peered inside, but the all-encompassing darkness prevented her from seeing anything. "What is it?"

"Our breakfast." With that, Legolas led the way to the back door once more and out into the dark, frozen morning. Thrusting the lighted torch into the snow, he waited until it had stopped sizzling before heading down the path toward the barn.

"It's a good thing you glow in the dark." Ivy hurried to keep up with his long strides in the deep snow.

"The storm has moved on, and the moon is nearly full," the Elf observed. "Does it offer enough light for you to see by, or should I guide you?"

Glancing up, she saw that he was right. The moon was bright and the stars seemed clearer than she remembered them being in Montana. "I'm okay, but am half-tempted to say I need your guidance."

He gave her a sideways glance, and even in the pale moonlight she could see his puzzlement. "Why?"

_Because I'd love having you touch me again, but I can't tell you that,_ she thought.

"Um...nothing," she said as he veered away from the paddocks to venture into the thick forest beyond. "Just my wonky sense of humor. But it would be easier if you left footprints or something. And hey, didn't Glorfindel say something about your feeding the horses this morning?" She pointed toward the snow-shrouded stable.

"I have already given them hay. I didn't think you needed to join me for that. We can feed them properly on the way back. And their stalls still need cleaning."

_He wants me to feed horses with him? How neat is that?_ "Do you want me to hush now and walk behind you?"

"You needn't be silent quite yet, but it will be easier if you follow me. The game trail we are picking up is narrow." He continued on, only to halt a few minutes later as Ivy found herself struggling in the deep, pristine snow as they left the castle behind and entered the forest. "Do you need me to slow down?"

"What I need," she puffed, pausing to shake out the snow that had collected in the dragging edge of her cloak, "is to be able to walk on top of the snow the way you do." She gasped for breath. "Look, there's no way I can keep up, so maybe I should give up. I can find my way back to the castle. I've left a big enough trail for me to follow," she added, pointing with disgust at the disturbed snow behind her.

"Why don't you try walking on top before giving up?" he suggested, looking down at her from his two-foot height advantage atop the deep snow.

_Oh yeah, right. You think I don't want to walk on the snow like you do?_ she thought._ Like it's so much fun staggering through drifts up to my knees? _

Taking a deep breath, she opted for a less antagonistic reply. "I don't walk on top of the snow because I _can't._" still colored her tone as she kicked at the snow atop a fallen log. She then flopped down on it and fought to catch her breath. "Don't you think I would if I could?"

"Have you tried?" Legolas demanded.

She looked up at him with some exasperation. "I step on snow, and I go down. It happens every time. Always has."

The Elf's arrows rustled in their quiver as he left the path to sling a leg over her log and sit before her. "Close your eyes."

"Close my-"

"Just do it, Ivy. Please?" The exasperation was now his.

She instantly did as he demanded.

"Thank you. Now envision the intricate latticework of snowflakes beneath your feet. How beautiful they are. How they will sparkle when the sun comes up. How they overlap, their fragile crystals interweaving to form this icy quilt upon the earth. Tell them you are an Elf and would be most grateful for their help. Ask them to support you on your journey, so that you walk atop their beauty instead of breaking through and destroying their beauty as would a Mortal."

"How do I tell them?"

"Simply ask. Whisper it aloud if you must. Have faith, the snow will hear you."

She did as she was told and added one more thing: _I want to be with him, not back at the castle waiting. So please don't let me fail? _She didn't open her eyes until she was finished.

"Now, stand up." Getting to his feet, Legolas stepped up onto the log. "Give me your hands, and come up here."

She did and found herself standing nose to chest with him. _Not a bad place to be at all,_ she decided.

"We will step off of this log," he said, still holding her hands, "and you are going to walk on top of the snow. Come."

Obedient and trusting, she stared up at him and followed as if in a dance. Legolas smiled down at her. "You're doing very well."

She wrinkled her nose and held on. "Now what?"

"Look around and keep walking." Releasing one of her hands, Legolas guided her carefully around the fallen log and back to the path.

Looking down, Ivy saw that the snow was no longer collapsing beneath her feet. Glancing behind, she could see the awkward, broken trail she'd forged reaching to the long, but there was none leading away. She and Legolas traveled together on a lake of snow that was untouched by their passing.

"It worked!" She gasped. "I'm actually staying on top!"

"Of course it worked." He sounded amused. "You had only to ask."

Blinking back tears, she squeezed his hand and gave a watery smile. "So I really am an Elf?"

"I have told you so, and so has your father. You found yourself glowing ever so faintly last night, and now the snow agrees with our telling." He cocked his head at her. "The snow is quite honest, I think, so don't you think it must be true?"

"I guess..."

"You can keep up with me now." Legolas offered a dimpled smile before pacing ahead of her and reclaiming the trail.

_I can talk to the snow and it will listen, and I belong among the Elves, _she thought._ The snow says so._

Following at Legolas' back, Ivy looked through new eyes at the frozen, absolutely silent trees engulfing them both. _I'm following an ancient woodland Elf through an ancient Ithilien forest that's a frozen, beautiful other-world. It doesn't even look real out here. It doesn't even feel real because I'm not cold any more. Of course that could be the magic elven cloak here, but it feels real enough though, and nothing like the trees and swallow-you-up snowdrifts in Montana. Does Legolas talk to the trees as well as to the snow? Could he teach me how to do that, too? Oh, that would be too wicked cool._

Feeling bold, she reached out to feel Legolas' cloak flowing beneath her hand as it swung before her. She ran her other hand over his quiver and shivered before ghosting her touch over the hilts of the deadly knives above. _I can see why he'd be more at home out here with his bow and his trees than inside that old castle Lee Greenwood calls home. _

It was somehow a comfort to reach up and curl her fingers around the top of the graceful wooden bow laying across his back. Of course he felt it and glanced back.

"Am I going too fast for you?"

"No, I'm just making sure you're real," she whispered.

"Again?" The amusement in his voice was all too clear.

"I keep thinking I'm going to wake up in San Francisco, and you'll have been nothing but a dream. Where are we?"

"On the game trail that passes the Falls of Eowen."

"Eowen? The White Lady of Rohan?" she ventured. "Why did you name them that?"

"I didn't, Faramir did. He said they roared as fiercely as his wife did when he had infuriated her. He then added, under her angry glare, that the pool of water beneath them offered solace and comfort as she did to those needing it. The White Lady could be quite fierce," he added with a grin tossed back over his shoulder. "His jest fell flat, but Eowen was so amused by Faramir's efforts to take his foot out of his mouth that she let the name stand." He moved a few paces on before adding "Aragorn and I hunted this same trail."

"It's been here that long?"

"As long as the food and water remain, the animals will also," he explained. "Deer aren't very imaginative."

They walked on in silence for some time, Ivy taking in the crystalline stillness of the snow-clad forest glowing in the moonlight. The trail curved gently toward the base of a mountain ridge, eventually revealing a half-frozen waterfall flowing in glowing-white, moonlit beauty over a jagged black cliff.

Moving closer in her eagerness to see the falls, Ivy heard the sound of water falling into the frozen pool below. Trotting ahead, she stood on tiptoe at what she judged to be the edge of the pool. "Why can't I see where the water's falling?"

She took a couple more steps closer to peer into the eerie silvered darkness, only to yelp in surprise Legolas lunged forward without ceremony. Catching her shoulders, he roughly yanked back a few feet.

"Wha-"

"You must not ever trust the ice, above or beneath the snow, at the edge of any river or pool," he warned, standing with his arm tight around her waist. "If it breaks, you will fall into the frigid water. The current will carry you beneath the ice shelf where not even I can reach you before hypothermia claims both our lives."

The terse delivery, along with an increase in the strength of his accent, told her he was serious about this, and that his fear for her was quite genuine.

"Oops," she whispered, clutching his hand. "I didn't know I was on the ice already. It just looked like more snow." She shivered and added softly, "Thank you."

"I thank you for not falling in. As for where the water is falling, it is just over there." He pointed into the shadows where the ice had formed a strange, jagged vertical sculpture. "The water still falls within the ice, for all waterfalls freeze from the outside in. There is considerable flow within the ice flume to feed the pool beneath, which is too deep and wide to ever freeze solid."

Ivy stood silent and stared in amazement.

"Did you not have such waterfalls in Montana?"

"Yeah, but I never got this close to them." She looked from the pool up at him. "Do the deer ever fall in?"

"Not often." He was still hovering close to her. "Deer cannot easily reach the water, but they have no need to venture over the ice as they've learned to lick the snow for moisture. The deer are not clever, but their collective memory is long."

Ivy stared intently at the black swirling water that could have claimed both their lives if Legolas hadn't been so vigilant. "It's so beautiful. And scary."

"Some have said the same about the Highlands in general. And we Elves. Myself especially, at least according to your mother's estimation."

Ivy wrinkled her nose at that, which earned her another smile, and then Legolas held out his hand. "Deer first, sights later. Come."

She took his hand and he tightened his grip, the better, she assumed, to ensure she followed when he left the edge of the pool. Crossing the game trail, he led her far away from the waterfall and much deeper into the woods. He seemed to consider each tree they passed until, nodding in seeming satisfaction, he stopped at the base of a very large oak whose branches disappeared into still-darkened sky above.

"My last hunting tree seems to have fallen since I've been away," he observed, "but this one will do."

"Will do what?" Ivy asked, craning her neck to look up into it.

Not answering, Legolas leaped to grasp the nearest branch that was growing at least three feet over his head. Swinging up onto it, he stepped a few feet away from the trunk before bouncing hard a couple of times and showering Ivy with snow.

"Hey!"

"Sorry." He took great care to miss her as he scraped the remaining snow and ice off with his boot. Crouching on the branch, he gestured shortly down to her. "Throw me your satchel."

_Oh please let me remember grandfather's lessons and don't let me throw like a girl, _she prayed before launching the satchel upward.

Miraculously, it seemed to know it was to land in Legolas' hands. Catching the satchel with ease, he hung the strap safely on a nearby branch. The next moment, he jumped lightly down from the branch and was beside her once again. Bending slightly, he laced his fingers together. "Up you go."

She looked from his hands and up at the branch, which had to be close to four feet over her head. "Up? Me, up there? You're joking."

"No. It is quite easy. You have but to put your foot in my hands and let me lift you into the tree."

"It's too high," she protested, her gaze fixed on Legolas' chosen branch which seemed to have moved even higher up the tree.

"Perhaps you're right." He considered for a moment. "No matter. I will lift you high enough for you to grasp the branch. You can wait there until I am back in the tree and can pull you up."

"Wait? You mean hang there? By my hands?"

"Yes."

He looked serious. Ivy knew he was serious. She also knew that she had to do this, and the thought was terrifying. "What if I fall?"

"I will not let you fall. And the snow is deep," he added as an afterthought. He was still standing and waiting, half hunched over and with his fingers laced just for her.

"I, er...I'm not sure I can do this."

"Ivy..." That tone again. The one that said he was fast losing patience with her inability to comply with the simplest of requests. "It is as simple as mounting a horse. You have but to give me your foot."

"A ten-foot tall horse, yeah. This is easy for you because this is what Elves do. Elves wait in the big, tall oak trees for the deer to walk by and don't notice that their Elven hinnies are twenty feet off of the ground."

Legolas did not deign to reply, and he did not shift his stance. In short, he simply, silently refused to exchange his choice of tree for one that was a little lower to the ground. One that would be a little more reassuring for her.

_Really, Ivy, what did you expect?_ she thought._ That he'd have a nice, comfy blind built back here in the woods with a ladder for your short legs? Oh, and there would be Darjeeling tea brewing in front of the fire, and you'd lay there whispering secrets and eating scones until a deer got lured in by the Buck Bomb that Legolas doesn't have and doesn't need, and then he could take his masterful shot? _

"I think I'm getting some sudden insight as to why Elrond chooses to stay behind in his comfy chair and lets someone else do the hunting," she muttered.

"You asked to come with me."

The Elf's voice was soft, his tone deadly. Ivy sensed that in the next moment he would unlace his fingers and take her straight back to the castle. He wouldn't say another word, but everyone would be eating ghastly lumpy oatmeal and turnip juice for lunch, and it would be all her fault. She cringed at the thought of telling Wendy and KiKi that porridge was all that was on the menu, and eyed the tree again. _Elrond knew what I'd be doing out here, even if I didn't, and he thought it was okay, so it's okay, right?_

"Oh, bloody hell." _If it's a good enough word for Lord Elrond to use under pressure, it's good enough for me. _Grabbing Legolas' shoulder, Ivy set her booted foot into his hands and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. "Just hold still, okay?"

"Of course." He then heaved her abruptly up into the air with what felt like the driving speed and force of NASA blasting its shuttle into space.

_Don't you dare ask him to do this a second time!_ some wise part of her warned. She made a desperate grab with both arms at the branch that suddenly appeared in front of her nose and hung, swinging, for what felt like an eternity before Legolas swung up lightly beside her.

Grasping her arm, he murmured, "You have to let go if I'm to pull you up."

"Can't!" she hissed between clenched teeth. Her fear of falling had inspired her fingers to lock fiercely onto that branch, and they ignored her request to loosen.

"It's a simple thing to ask, and it's me asking."

"I..._can't!_"

"Ivy." Straddling her arms, he bent down and ran his hands down her arms which were desperately clutching the branch. His voice was soothing, his impatience tethered for the moment. "It's me. Legolas of the Fellowship, one of the Nine Walkers. Your protector, remember?"

"Name dropper." _My voice is quivering like some scared kid on the high dive for the first time, and so are the muscles in my arms. I've got to let go, and this is so embarrassing. _

His voice was so close. She wanted desperately to listen to him, to trust and obey him, but her traitorous arms would not. Whimpering softly, she closed her eyes and held on even more tightly.

"I will not let you fall." His breath warmed her ear, and his cold nose pushed aside her hair. "Trust me. Please."

His warm lips pressed against her temple and stayed there for the longest moment. "Please."

When those lips moved away, Ivy's eyes flew open.

"Did you just kiss me?" she asked, incredulous.

"Yes."

_He kissed me. He admitted he did. Legolas. Kissed me. Why did he kiss me? Oh, I don't care why. He did! _Her mind was suddenly awash with surprise and confusion and a warm, pleased feeling seemed to overlie it all. She forgot her paralyzed fingers, and the distraction was all Legolas needed to tighten his grip beneath her arms and lift her easily, safely and securely beside him on the branch.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, he smiled into her dazed eyes. "You and I are going to sit down now, across this great branch that is happy to protect and support us."

"Okay." Ivy's thoughts were so far away, she heard but didn't understand him. _Did he kiss me because he wanted to, or because he wanted me to let go?_

Without any argument at all, she sank down beside him, scarcely noticing where they were or how he was nestling her between himself and the very solid trunk. His hard-muscled thigh was against hers, and she sensed that if she so much as shifted one inch, he would be there to reposition her. She would not fall.

_That's great,_ she thought, still in a daze as he unwound her arms from around his neck and carefully returned them to her. _But I think I may already be falling._

# # #

_A/N: My co-writer Silverbirch (formerly known as Greenwood) and I no longer enjoy posting our writing efforts on fanfiction dot net. So this is the last chapter of our work that we will upload here. _

_If you wish to read future chapters of "Daughter of Time" or be notified about anything else we might write, please go to yahoogroups dot com and subscribe to a group called 'greenwood_limited'. This group is openly listed in the directory, and anyone can join who wants to receive future installments of the story.  
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_**UPDATE 4 SEPTEMBER 2010: We are up to Chapter 59 **on our website at:_

_1_. http colon slash slash wildest dot dreams dot angelfire dot com

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